Blue Means Love
by BlackAngelWings1010
Summary: When a beautiful girl heals Emily's scars, and Paul catches one glimpse of her- and immediately the temperamental werewolf is hooked, who is she really? Alexandra has a quest to find the missing Hero of Olympus. She's torn between the east coast and the west, but she's closer to the son of the sea god than ever before.
1. Chapter 1- Target Located

"I never hated my neighbors until one of them blew my wall in," I offer to the pregnant woman publicly cursing the people who live in her neighborhood. I can tell she secretly likes them dropping in all the time, even if she is a little aggravated.

She spins around, partly amused at my pained expression and partly horrified, and I catch sight of three brutal scars marring her face. I will my burn to reappear on the back of my leg, because I know I'm going to help her. I'm the only way to get rid of them, unless she gets plastic surgery, and that won't look natural.

Time for my next victim, I decide.

"That must have been a memorable event," the woman gives me a small smile, and I see her scar pulls one of her almond eyes down slightly. "I'm Emily." She offers her hand out to me. She's beautiful, even with the streaks running down her face.

"I'm Alexandra," I say, and I curse myself for telling her my real name. I uncover my pearly whites into a smile to hide it. I pull my cream case out of the wallet pocket of my denim shorts and play with it between my fingers. I strategize how to mention it to her.

Emily doesn't seem to notice it. "What happened with your wall?"

I let loose a sheepish, inwardly pained laugh, "I was at summer camp with my half siblings my mom gets a little busy- and some pranksters from the cabin next door decided to set off firecrackers in the bathroom of my cabin."

I twirl my leg around so my calf faces her. "Let me tell you, it was definitely colorful, but my cabin set fire and I got this." I decided not to mention that Jenna went blind, which was partly for my benefit, because I didn't want to remember the curly haired thirteen year old who was overcome my a hydra in the Titan War. She didn't even know it was there, because there was no sight in her kaleidoscopic orbs. Damn you Stoll brothers!

I also failed to mention that my burn did not, in fact, stem from that event at all, but a fire-breathing dragon.

This was probably more plausible to Emily.

_Lo siento_, I thought of Emily's scars in the limited Spanish I had learned from Leo. _I feel your pain. _So he is good for something other than finding said dragon, attaching wings, and naming it Festus. And he, Piper, and Jason rode off on Happy the Dragon.

Emily gave me an empathetic look. "Mine came from a bear attack."

I had a feeling she wasn't telling the truth, but I didn't push it. Apollo's blessing had to count for something. I had a bit of foresight, not enough to take over Rachel's position, unfortunately, because everyone loves living in a cave (can't account for taste). I guess I could shoot an arrow; sometimes it hits the target even. But really, Apollo's blessing helps me heal scars that keep people from seeing inner beauty. (My mom, Aphrodite had to BEG him to do this, and I think he agreed if she let him date one of her daughters in peace).

Aphrodite wouldn't be winning the Mom of the Year award anytime soon, but I appreciated the gesture.

I held up the cream container I'd been fiddling with. "This is scar cream, I haven't tried it yet, but everyone whose tried it says it works wonders. I got it from my mom," (it's probably the only birthday present, I've ever gotten from her, but I didn't mention that), "Um, I'm trying to do everything I can to forget that. I still have nightmares, but I'm kind of nervous to try it. It might be a little assuming of me to say this, but I'll try it if you will?"

I somehow knew it was the right thing to say, because Emily can see, anyone in this store could glance at me and be sure I'm trying desperately to forget shit something awful.

The s-word doesn't even begin to describe the nightmares.

Now, I'm no Percy or Annabeth; there's no way in hell I could survive even a quarter of the _fucked-up-ed-ness_ they'd experienced, but even without charm-speaking like the evil Shrew (Drew), I know how to get people to do what I want.

Emily twirls her hair with her pinky finger, and I see an internal battle raging through the windows of her soul. Her beautiful brown eyes didn't seem conflicted very long, I can see that side for "Operation help the poor pretty girl forget shit" or HFG (Help Girls Forget) because the acronym for my operation title was just weird. I can see her motherly instincts kicked and prevented her from making the other choice. She nods.

She though she was helping me, but it was the other way around. "Okay, I can't believe I'm agreeing to this... but Alexandra, don't be too disappointed if it doesn't work out."

I smiled as if excited, "Okay!" and I grab her hand and help her in shopping for what seems like an army.

"That's a shitload of food," I comment as she lifts five twelve-packs of Dr. Pepper into a cart, "Planning on locking the entire population of La Push in your house for a month?"

She chuckles, "No, my fiance has a lot of friends who eat like wolves." She shakes her head, as if thinking of an inside joke, "They never fail to surprise me on how much they can stuff into their mouths and still be good-looking."

I smirk at her good-naturedly. "Are any of them single? Because I'd like my future kids to inherit that kind of metabolism." If I live long enough to give birth. Besides I'd probably balance it out, because I can't eat a scoop of ice cream without gaining ten pounds.

She gives me a look that says 'Who knows?' and promises to set me up with one of them.

We pay together at the cash register. I look away from the cashier itching to get out of his lustful gaze. He doesn't notice my scar. He doesn't look any lower than my ass of any higher than my chest.

All I get is a New York cheesecake muffin and a tub of ice cream- she doesn't know it yet, but it's for her. I've had plenty of people sob when their scars disappears as if it never happened. Let me tell you- ice cream is the solution to all the problems: world peace, global warming, world hunger. I think it could save the pandas. Fro-yo is the cure for obesity and pudding is the meaning of life.

Bananas fight cancer.

We carry a conversation about the hot guys that stampede her house for the meals she's purchasing food to prepare for.

Emily and I convey the plastic bags full of products for aforementioned hot guys to her car, which brings up the subject of- "Alexandra, do you have a car? Where do you want to do this? Should we go to your house?-"

"Emily, relax. I currently do not have a car... I'm on a **walkabout**," I guess you could describe my search for the son of the sea god, Hero of Olympus, Child of the Great Prophecy, as that, "so my house isn't nearby."

Nope, it's all the way in the Big Apple, but knowing Percy (Well, the closest I've been to him is pecking him on the cheek with some of my sisters when he let the children of love use to "perfume thing" as he so eloquently described it in his sixteenth birthday) he could be anywhere. Annabeth figured I could search Washington and Montana to get our bases covered.

"Where do you live?" Emily inquired, as we finished loading the bags into the trunk of her car.

"Long Island, New York." I reply, clutching my NY cheesecake muffin. "For some reason, nobody recognizes my accent." I'm fine with that, I don't really relish the inflection of our pronunciation the way I do British accents.

British guys are just like, Y_um!_ "I dated a British guy once." I mention. " There's something about their accent that makes swearing sound polite."

Emily laughs, but doesn't comment, because she can see I'm not finished talking.

I continue, "We broke up because all I wanted to do was make him say "zebra" and "potato" and test out why British guys lose their accent when they sing, because I will never understand the science behind that."

"Come to my house," She laughs, "We can do the scar thing there and I can make a guy from the pack date you so you never have to leave."

"The pack?" I inquire. "Are they hot?" Another, more important thought occurs to me, "Do they have accents?"

* * *

**How do you guys like this so far? Yeah, it's only the beginning not as interesting as it could've been, but maybe I'll go back and do some editing. **

**So I know I haven't been the most trustworthy person on Fan fiction as of late, or ever. But I'm really feeling this right now and will update as soon as possible. **

**I don't own any publicly recognizable characters, because if I did, I would NOT be writing on Fan fiction, but blowing my money somewhere in Los Angeles.**

Walkabout- it's an australian tradition to go out and find yourself in the wild, but Alex kind of changed it

**Love you guys and... here's a quiz for y'all.**

**What song does this come from?**

_**"If I could fall, into the sky**_

_**Do you think time would pass me by, bye**_

_**'Cause you know I've walk a thousand miles just to see you**_

_**Tonight"**_

**And actually please tell me because it's all I can remember from that song and I don't know the name of it. **


	2. Chapter 2-Imprint Located

"I know this might seem fucked up, but at the camp I go to, the most beautiful people get put in a cabin together just because of their looks." I tell Emily in the car. I don't know how this happens, but when I feel my conversations are too normal, I steer them towards camp. Nothing spices up a conversation like a camp that teaches you how not to be devoured by Hades' bloodthirsty minions.

Emily raises her eyebrow, "That seems judgmental." She pats her baby bump unconsciously.

"Well," I add, "That's not the only reason. You have to have my mom, too. But people guess you're in Cabin Ten if you're really attractive." Everyone at camp is attractive, how could they not be? They've descended from _gods._

"Your mom?" Emily finds it hard to believe I have that many half siblings. Yep- Twelve sisters and four brothers.

"Yeah, my mom gets really busy, right? There's Arianna, Piper, Lacy, Mitchell, Riley, Ginny, Jackie, Drew," I mentally skip Silena, "Joshie, Xavier, Bella," Emily almost flinches at this name, "Valerie, Rosanne, Johanna, and Ashleigh."

Emily chuckles, "I think I won't have more than one or two."

I smile.

We drive in silence for a few more minutes, passing thick forest, before Emily asks, "So how did your mom convince you all to go to the same camp?"

Well, I couldn't exactly say the truth that there were mythical monsters out to get us, so I made up a story.

"Well, our mom is... famous among some people, and all of her kids, my siblings, cause trouble to get attention and stuff. My sister Piper stole a car and totally went kleptomaniac. Anyway, we're safe from the paparazzi there. The rest of the kids are there from their parents, too. Some of those cabins even have more people than ours! And," I said, "It's insanely fun!"

I glance up at her mauled face to see if she was interested. She glances over at me at the same time. She smiles, but she's looking behind me, and I spin around to see a huge charcoal wolf, like a hell-hound baby, but cuter. It lacks the wild, rabid, and bloodthirsty look to the eyes and the fangs with points you just couldn't get from a pencil sharpener. "Did you see that?" I ask her. What was she seeing- a poodle? I love mortals imagination. It keeps me entertained.

"The wolf?" she asked, unaffected by the mist. "Yeah, they're everywhere. Just stay out of the forests." She recites her answer like it's rehearsed. I know the feeling. Well, not really, I tend to make up things as I go along. I don't really abide by Chiron's rule book when it comes to talking about camp in the mortal world.

I decide to continue talking about camp, "So at camp we do Capture the Flag in the woods, like extreme mode, every other night or more. Because of camp, I'm also fluent in Greek and French." Emily looked impressed. I decided not to mention that I was better at those languages than English.

"Say something in Greek," she asks me.

"Μιλάω Ελληνικά."

"What does that mean?"

"I speak Greek, literally."

* * *

We parked at a small house with tons of forest around it and a porch.

Emily smirked, "After, you can stay for lunch because you helped me shop. And let's pretend you only know how to speak Greek, because it'll be hilarious how the guys react."

I decide she's quite devious. I am proud of her for plotting with me. "You're a genius. Why should you use your powers for good when you can use them for evil?"

We parade through her house- kitchen, first for the groceries, and up the stairs to a cozy bedroom with a dark blue bed spread on a king-sized ceder bed.

"First you." I demand, and she complies, laying on the king sized bedspread with a towel wrapped around her head. I didn't even notice her put that one. Must be my ADHD acting up. "I'll do it for you because it'll be hard for you to see." She closes her eyes, and I thickly lather the white cream paste onto my forefinger. As I stroke her scar up and down, the scar heals perfectly, melding back into her perfect skin before the supposed bear attack. It looks more like a Hellhound took a liking to her face. So she doesn't get suspicious that it healed immediately, I put a cloth bandage over it.

"Stay still for fifteen minutes." I command, and without even using cream, I touch my ex-burn, and it disappears. I put the white cloth on it just to not raise suspicion. It still hurts me when I touch it, not from actual pain, but from memory. I wince. "Γαμώτο!" I hiss the equivalent of the F-bomb in Greek.

"Are you okay?" Emily tries to stand up, but I race over to her and guide her back to the bed.

"Ναι, είμαι μια χαρά- I mean, yeah, I'm fine. I just... looking at it brought back memories."

"That's too bad," she says. The brown-haired, black-eyed girl hesitates, "Tell me more about your camp. You know, to get your mind off it."

I don't argue because I want to forget so badly. I tell her about how some people stay year-round and some leave for the rest of the years. She finds it weird. I say how some people have been there since they were six or seven and some people don't meet their siblings until they're about sixteen. I explain how they aren't my full siblings- we just share the same mom. I don't mention Carrie and Riley, because I find it very weird that they're in love and in the same cabin. Cabin Ten keeps that secret under wraps well. I describe how we have the Fireworks twice every month and it's the primary "date spot" couples go to. One year we convinced Chiron to host a dance. Like I said, one year.

I describe Cabin Ten as a pink, Barbie dream house. It has a painted roof with pillars and a blue-and-white checkerboard porch with steps and grey walls. I call my sisters beautiful girls with designer clothes and my brothers handsome boys with godlike physiques. The hot pink door is alluring for the girly girls of the world. The lace curtains frame the windows and the potted carnations (that we write our crushes names on scrap paper and place under resting on the porch.

The scent of perfume that almost gave Jenna Clark the hives.

I talk about the inside of the cabin. The walls are a rosy pink with white window trimming. The beds are pastel blue for the girls and green for the guys. Every person has a (magical) chest with their name painted on it in calligraphy (the art of writing beautifully) (that fits as much as you can possibly put in it) to put their personal stuff like makeup and clothes. I talk about how my sisters squabble for more space to fit their posters of attractive celebrities, and I just hung pictures of my friends.

Soon, half an hour had gone by, and suddenly Emily shoots up, her brown hair flying up behind her neck, and I curse in surprise as it whips me in the face. "Let's go down! It's time for lunch," she says. "But I have no time to make to before the guys come, so I'm just going to order pizza. Are you good with that?"

I nod, "I'm not picky. Well, I don't eat octopus. I don't eat seaweed, because I will not eat something in the paste I put on my face at the spa-"

Emily cuts me off, hurriedly, "Great!"

Okay.

* * *

As soon as the Pizza Hut guy comes, a parade of quite tanned, built, HAWT guys stampede the room like a pack of wolves. I remember Emily's plan, and speak to her in Greek.

"Emily, ποιοι είναι αυτοί οι άνθρωποι?" I ask who these people are.

She somehow knows what I'm asking and points to each of them. "Quil, Seth, Jacob, Embry, Jared-" another attractive man enters the room,m but he's older than the rest of them, "-and this is my fiance, Sam, who I was telling you about." He wraps his arm around her protectively, especially of the baby bump. The side of her face covered with the bandage is facing away from him so he doesn't notice it.

"συγχαρητήρια για το μωρό. Δεν πιστεύω ότι σας είπα ότι νωρίτερα, είμαι τόσο ηλίθιος. (Congratulations on the baby. I believe I didn't say that before, I'm such an idiot.)" I say, throwing my hands in the air and face palming. I thought she said these boys eat a lot? None of them have touched the pizza yet, but ti's probably because the don't know what to make of this dazzling, beautiful Aphrodite child spewing Greek like Rachel's prophecies. Taking advantage of the awe factor, I snatch up a piece of pizza, and motion for fire. "Φωτιά! Φωτιά!" I need to pay tribute to the gods.

Emily furrows her eyebrow. "Alexandra, what?"

I put my hands on my head, and try to come up with something to signify a "fire" charade without looking like a complete idiot.

The HAWT guys finally speak. Jacob, (He looks a lot like Taylor Lautner. They could be twins) I think, says, "Emily, there something you want to tell us? Does she only speak... that language?"

Emily and I laugh lightly, and I curse at him, "Πηγαίνετε στην κοράκια αυθάδη θνητό! (Go to the crows insolent mortal!)"

I hear thundering footsteps enter this room and another fit for Aphrodite/Ares hybrid (most likely just naturally attractive guys on steriods) storms into the room. He's clearly angry at someone. "SAM!" He yells, but then he takes a look at me, and a wave of love and adoration almost knocks me down. I involuntarily flinch from the powerful desire radiating from him.

He looks hurt.

"Συνήθως διαρκεί λίγο περισσότερο για τα παιδιά για να πάρει αυτό εμμονή μαζί μου. Αλλά εντάξει ... Σας αγαπώ πάρα πολύ μάγκα. (Usually it takes a while longer for guys to get this obsessed with me. But okay... love you too dude. )" I rapid fire at them.

The good looking Aphrodite/Ares hybrids burst out laughing.

"Only you, Paul, would get the chick who speaks some foreign language."


	3. Chapter 3- Blue Means Love

I spot my muffin, and dive for it. After tearing into to the New York cheesecake snack, I glance at Emily and force myself to make conscious effort to stop talking in Greek.

"That was Greek. I also know French better than I know English." I mention, "But I am American-born and raised in New York."

If it's possible, all of their eyes bulged more than Tantalus's when he almost got the food to stop running away from him, just before he was pulled by a vortex back into Tartarus. The awe factor is truly an amazing thing. Half-bloods can also learn Latin more easily, but it doesn't come naturally like Greek or French for the children of Aphrodite.

I take the silence as an opportune moment to introduce myself. "I'm Alexandra." I flash them a grin that rivals Apollo's.

The angry, yet extremely attractive guy who fell in love with me like Cupid shot him, runs over to me, with his hand sticking out. "I'm Paul." He introduces himself.

I shake his extraordinarily warm hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Paul." I look into his chocolate brown eyes.

"Yeah, it's great to meet you, too. Whoa, did your eyes just change color?" He asks, in awe.

"Yeah, it's a genetic thing. They change according to my mood."

"They're blue now. What does that mean?" His inquiry sparks a nerve, but I don't let it show. Because blue means... Blue means...

"That takes all the mystery out of life," I say flirtatiously, batting my eyelashes as some lame attempt at a suduction. Pfft... who winks anymore?

I turn to the rest of the people in the room who were onlookers to this conversation. "It's nice to meet you all, too."

Quil smirks, "So it's a pleasure to meet Paul, but all the rest of us get is nice?"

My eyes twinkle, "Well, I didn't notice any of you shake my hand and introduce yourselves." As those words left my tongue, there was a line of boys at least half a foot taller than me waiting to shake my hand. Paul doesn't seem comfortable, as he has to move out of his close position with me. Eros, Cupid's Greek form, must've had a very strongly enchanted arrow, I decide, if it hurts to be away from me. The other boys act as if there is a competition I do not know about on who I like best.

Jared and Jacob ask me to teach them Greek.

I laugh, and it comes out in that god-awful sound of tinkling bells. "Funny. Whenever someone asks me to teach them Greek, the first word they want to know is hello. The second has a high probability of being fuck."

Jared says, "Well, don't expect us to be any different."

I roll my eyes and they flashed black, but then turned to hazel. I try to ignore the feeling of blue that worked its way into my eyes whenever I looked at Paul. We sat down at the table, as soon as we had, the boys start scarfing down the pizza like the ravenous pigeon monsters we'd encountered the year of Percy, Annabeth, and Clarisse's quest to the Sea of Monsters to retrieve the Golden Fleece and restore Thalia and her towering pine.

Emily shakes her head at me, "Ignore them, love. I swear, they'll never learn manners."

Sam then turns Emily's head to kiss her, but his eyebrow pucker at the bandage. "Em, what happened?" Concern leaks into his voice.

Emil looks at me, remembering something. "Oh, yeah! Come on, Alex," and we make haste to the bathroom, to avoid further questions. I peel off mine and fake a grin.

"Oh my gods," I whisper. I assist the older girl in peeling off her cloth bandage wrap. Her skin was there, completely smooth.

She screams, a bloodcurlingly gleeful sound if I ever heard one.

Immediately, we hear a thunderstorm of footsteps to the bathroom door, which slams open and whacks against the wall with a resounding echoing CRACK! of the door splintering and the wall groaning.

Sam and Paul each grab someone protectively. Sam snatches up Emily and Paul manhandles me. My only thought is how sensual it is to have his warm arms wrapped around my already smoldering core. The rest of the guys look, and sniff, the surrounding area for any danger.

I let out a laugh and break free from Paul's hold. "We're not in trouble. Emily's just really happy."

I swear these guys are slow, because they do a double-take as they just then notice Emily's scar went bye-bye.

Sam goes, "What? Did you get surgery, Emily?"

Seth says, "Yeah, how'd you do it?" Emily glances at me, still slightly skeptical.

"Yeah, Alex, how does it work? It was practically a miracle."

I smirk, "Magic." Yes, I am telling the truth, bitches. "So my mom wanted to do scar cream that heals scars down to the last bit and it would be like it never happened. It's not out yet because she doesn't know how it works, or which chemicals that she used. She accidentally made it and found out it works, and its been tested to be perfectly safe." Not so much that part. This cream is actually just for black head penetration.

I can tell they don't have much of a choice but to believe me.

Emily's still kind of in awe, feeling her cheek and whispering what I assume are sweet nothings in her fiancè's ear. I notice a silvery spiderweb scar healing, molding into his skin under his ear at an abnormally quick rate.

"So who's your mom?" Embry asks. I bite my lip, somehow knowing they would know if I lied.

"Let's play a little game. If you guess right, I'll tell you. She's famous among some people, and very beautiful. And also, not many people know just how many kids she has."

She's also Greek. And a myth.

The guys agree. "Britney Spears?" offers Jacob.

"Angelina Jolie," Jared guesses, faint wrinkles running on his forehead.

"Madonna?"

"Beyoncé?"

"Taylor Swift?"

I stared at Embry. "Wild guess there, dude. She's twenty-three and I'm seventeen." He slams his head against the wall. Most people can't have kids when they're six, last I checked. But rules are different for... basically everyone that has some supernatural fantasy mojo lingering like a cancer in your life. But I think Tay Swizzle isn't part of the godly world. She may be a child of the godly hot Apollo ( I would hit that!). I doubt it. She's more of the good girl type. Demigods tend to be the troublemaking celebs.

We leave the bathroom with the guys still hounding me about my mom.

I refuse to tell them.

* * *

"So why are you here instead of New York?" Seth asks. He's on the receiving end of an unsolicited death glare that could rival Nico's, from Paul, and I remember the Eros's arrow factor to this equation. Also, is it weird that they all seem to start their questions with 'so'?

"I'm on a walkabout, which stemmed from am Australian tradition, but now some of the people at the camp I got to do it. It's a road trip or walk in the wilderness, or a combination, used to find your inner calling." I decide to mention something about Percy. "I'm not the only thing I'm searching for. I'm also trying to find this guy." I pull out a gunshot of the Savior of Olympus from the day we decided to make yearbooks in Arts and Crafts.

Paul fucking growls at it.

Jacob hisses something to him under his husky breath, and the only words I can make out are "think...imprint".

I don't even raise a perfectly trimmed eyebrow. Sam, since Paul so obviously is dying to know, and can't ask because of his intense shaking, inquires, "Who is he?"

"His name is Percy Jackson. Good guy, too. His girlfriend was driving all of us up the wall with trying to find him that I promised I'd look for him if I could get out of that rubber room." Annabeth is great, yeah, but stressed Annie beth is not something anyone wants to deal with.

Paul seems to calm down enough to not belong in the asylum along with the daughter of Athena.

"Aren't the police looking for him?" Emily takes a chunk of the Rocky Road ice cream I'd bought for her back at the store.

I finish off my muffin and stand up to put away the folded wrapper thing. I drop in into the trash and fall back against the comfortable couch. "No. We haven't told them he disappeared yet, because they'd just search the area he last was, and that won't be very comfortable for my camp. We have a few unorthodox camp activities that they may find evidence of. Like, weapons, explosives and such. "

A tall, built girl walks in with two younger looking versions of the boys.

"Why would you have weapons and explosives?" Paul asks, his hand not restraining itself when it goes for mine. They clasp together. I pretend not to notice the heat beading up in the palm of my dainty hands.

"Why not, Paul?" The girl's voice comes out with the same skeptical, annoyed, trained tone that Drew has, except less high pitched and frilly. "To blow your head off, of course, and save us the trouble.?"

I find myself smiling at her, wistfully. "You're like a less bitchy version of my sister."

All heads turn to me. "Was that sarcasm?" The girl asks.

"Not even." I reply. "I'm Alexandra."

"I like you," she decides. "Leah." The rest of the group stares at us, like it was extraordinary that this Leah liked me. liked someone, at least.

She is like Drew. She called me Leah for a week before she finally learned my name.

"The weapons?" Paul prompts.

"Oh. Yeah. We do war games, fencing, sparring. You know, all that good stuff where you get to beat up Will and get beaten up by Clarisse. Anyway, we're also really big on martial arts. And as for the explosives- we do a build your own fireworks competition every month. Oh and we also have a forge, where you can actually make your own weapons..." I glance up at their eyes. "What, you don't believe I get excited over stuff like this? Beautiful girls don't spend all their time on their wardrobe." Except Drew.

"So you like this camp?" Embry asks.

I nod. "Dudes, what is this, an interrogation? I just came here for lunch, not to tell you my life story." That would take awhile. One time I encountered a gorgon, and I said, "Hi, my name is..." so they'd at least know who would turning them into yellow glitter and Euryale goes, "We're here to eat you, not hear your life story," and Stheno complains, "Aw, can't we?"

Don't you love monsters?

I think I'll invite Stheno to my party if I make it to my next birthday alive, and I'll give her a recording of my life story as a goodie bag. In Euryale's, I think I'll put a restraining order and a strawberry ring pop.

* * *

"Do you want to go cliff diving with us today?" Paul asks.

I say sure and we set off to the La Push beach. It reminds me of Camp Half-Blood, but then again, everything does, because I've lived there since I was eleven. I'm wearing one of my bathing suits- all suitable daughters of Aphrodite carry at least two bikinis in their purse. It's turquoise with beads playing up my cleavage and strings connecting the triangles on my southern region. The guys jump off the cliff, and at first I'm hesitant, but I pray to Poseidon like, please. I swear I'll try to find your son, and sure enough, when I do a graceful swan dive into the clear water, the water cushions my fall.

I thrash out of the water, and immediately Paul is by my side. "That was awesome, right?" He calls.

I grin widely. "Yes!" Brady and Collin, who were the two who came in with Leah Clearwater, are hooting and hollering and I'm pretty sure they've been hitting the happy juice or are just major adrenaline junkies.

They go for another round, but I stay on the beach. A suspiciously pale person stalks up to me, and I feel the eyes of the boys suddenly back on me, but they were on the cliff. He's beautiful, but his blood-red eyes ruin the image.

"Vampire," I hiss, pulling out my celestial bronze knife. It gleams in the glow set from the sun behind the clouds.

"It's been a long time since I saw a knife like that, half-blood. Be ready." And with that, the empousai-like creature sped off faster than my ADHD could comprehend.

In the instant it took me to hide my knife again, Paul, Jacob, and Leah were at my side.

"Alex!" Paul breathed, "What did that leech want?"

Leech, I thought. He knows.

"Oh, him?" I decided to play it down like I didn't know until I was sure what Paul, Jacob, Sam, the rest of them, and Emily were. "He wanted to get to know me better."

Without looking in the mirror, just using Paul's orbs I could tell my eyes were blue again. I cursed myself in Ancient Greek because blue meant... blue meant l_ove._

* * *

**how do you guys like so far? **

**I was up all night writing this on my tablet, you better love it. Ugh, goodbye losers I'm so tired. I need to sleep.**

**Gah! Love you to death. So i hope you die if you don't like it. **

**Guess again bitches. Please R and R, because the three Rs aren't that hard. Reading, 'Riting, and 'Rithmatic.**

_**"I feel so much better**_

_**Now that you're gone forever"**_


	4. Chapter 4-Go to Hades, Mr D

**Hey guys. Thought this might help. Eye color chart:**

* * *

**Crystalline Blue irises- in love **

**"Royal" Blue irises with golden specks- **

**Golden irises- ****either possessed with Kronos**** or happy/content**

**Grass Green irises- jealous/vengeful/envious/possessive**

**Pure Black irises- Angry/hateful/fear/nothing/numb/**

**Hazel irises- mixed emotions, depends which colors are most prominent ALSO- nervous, confused, challenged**

**Light Purple/Violet- lustful/dreamy/mischievous**

* * *

"Even if I say 'It'll be alright'," I warble like one of my mom's doves into my blue, plastic hairbrush, "Still I hear you say you want to end your life." It's a huge waste of time for a demigod to be suicidal. It'd be much easier for them to just leave camp weaponless and search for the monsters themselves. "Now why can't be try to just stay alive?" I belt out.

You don't expect an Aphrodite girl to be like this- singing like a depressed Apollo cabin wannabee(which just contradicts itself, because in the history of camp, only one of Apollo's campers have been notably sad for more than a few hours). But I am: I sing anything, no matter how crappy I sound. I think this comes from the plethora of Apollo campers I've dated. I think it's adorable that they sing to you and recite poetry. It's like Romeo and Juliet all over again. (Except for the fact that those "star-crossed lovers", as my mother enjoys calling them, had a relationship between a betrothed seventeen-year-old and a dreamer thirteen-year-old and caused nine deaths. I did like the story of Helen of Troy much better because at least they were adults and Helen was actually kind of pretty. The Trojan war was a very important historical time! Romeo and Juliet was just a joke from Cupid._ Quite like my life, actually._)

If I was Romeo, I would've just dumped her. But, regardless, I was quite sure Emily thought I was insane, singing and dancing in her room with her, eating ice cream, while singing Never Too Late by Three Days Grace. I am quite crazy, I admit.

Never Too Late isn't much of a celebratory song.

Emily asked me to stay with her to celebrate the removal of our scars while the guys did something downstairs. I ignored the thought that it was probably a meeting about how to dispose of me. I had said yes only because of the expression Paul's face was contorted into when he looked at me, like he needed to protect me. It was cute, because I could protect myself pretty well.

I justified my hate of the thought of leaving here to continue my search by repeatedly chanting in my mind, "_Find out what these people are, whether or not they're working for Gaea, or could be allies for camp." _

"So," Emily says, "I did say I would set you up with one of them. I'm thinking Paul?" Her voice tweaks up into a question, but even with a question mark behind it, it's still a statement. I know immediately that she would not set me up with any one else.

It was a love at first sight case if I'd ever seen one (I hadn't), but it was more one-sided. I thought Paul was attractive, _yes,_ but... I was more of a Apollo's son girl myself. Must be Apollo's blessing, because I melted like the earth under the sun chariot every time one of them flashed a sunny smile at me. At the same time, years of pent-up emotion for the monsters, and the gods, and, _fuck- _ everything else that made me crazy, I never seemed to be able to vent around them. They were so sunny to my built up storm. Paul was stormy, like me- SHUT UP, INNER VOICES!

"Yeah, perfect!" I chirp, uncharacteristically enthusiastic. I had to get on the inside- first, to see what it felt like to be on the inside, and- second, to find out stuff about them.

I strategize my plan, but Hades knows I'm no child of Athena, so I improvise. Improvision is my usual strategy.

"Um, Emily," I improvise, "Do you want me to give you a makeover? I'll just give you the super sexy smokey eye make up and a loose, messy up do, and hot pink lipstick like Alicia Keys had for her Fall Beauty Look on the Lipstick blog 2014. That was smexy!" I almost begin the rant like Lacy about the sweet looks we could pull off with mocha or russet-skinned people. Russet is a brownish color with an orange/reddish tint or undertone to it, and it looks amazing! It made me want that skin tone instead of my barely colored porcelain doll face. Yeah, I'm pretty beautiful (I can't deny it, I can't pretend), but I can't help but envy the mocha madness.

Emily chuckles boisterously, "Alexandra, you can do whatever you want with my face. It's your canvas." Hmm... eager much? Of course you are. It's moi giving the makeover.

I smirk. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks of me as an artist. Now, stay still unless you want me to try abstract art." A surplus of makeup and accessories tumble out of my gold-plated designer purse on the dark hard wood-paneled floor when I turn my bag over so the open pocket faces the ground. I fish for makeup and eyeliner to go with her glowing russet skin tone.

"I hope you're not planning to hurt me with those things."

She's like Piper. "My sister Piper thinks these are torture devices. Honestly, how do you hurt someone with an eyelash curler or a Q-tip?" But don't worry. 'OMG! I hate how Alex gave me a makeover!' SAID NO ONE EVER!

I smolder the area around her eyes, laying on the shadow and eyeliner. I give her a bit of a burgundy hue on the sides for a dramatic flair. My hands mold her hair into a messy up do with several strands falling into place and let her do the lipstick herself. I held my bejeweled bronze mirror up to her face, and she beamed at her reflection.

"How did you do that?" She asks. "You're like, magical. Somehow you're always trying to make me better, and you always do it in a way that makes me look like an angel. What are you... my fairy godmother?"

I relax my features into a sexy smirk, "You wish I was your fairy godmother."

She giggles, "Would you be required to grant me three wishes?" Emily scrunches her forehead for a millisecond, mentally coming up with a wish list.

"I'm pretty sure that's a genie," I join her in laughter, "And I am not in possession of a beautiful lamp for you to rub to earn said wishes."

Emily raises an eyebrow, "I've heard it both ways. Cinderella's fairy godmother basically gave her a wish though."

I snort, very unladylike. What would my mom think of me right now? I run though the possibilities in my head. "Are you really going to argue? I'm like a Disney geek." I notice her perched eyebrow. "Emily!" I practically screech. "Do not move your face, or so help me gods..."

Her eyebrow drops. "You keep saying stuff like that. Gods or Hades. What do you mean? Is it like your religion?

I sweat drop at the thought of worshiping the gods. Dionysus would probably turn us all into dolphins if we even approached his temple and likely we if we didn't, as well. It'd be hilarious sacrificing chickens to Hera or Zeus, as well. "Gods, no!" She makes a flighty motion with her hand as if to say '_Y__ou're doing it again.'_ "I don't... well, it's like an inside joke thing at my camp, and everyone says it there. I don't know how to explain it. But it's just natural for me to say it."

She goes, "Okay," but she doesn't understand. "So, Alex, you up for a sleepover with me? I have to warn, I act all responsible around the guys, but honestly, I'm kind of crazy."

I clear my throat hesitantly. "Yeah, that'd be great. I'd love to see that crazy, asylum worthy side of you, too, but I have to, um, IM Annabeth. You know, Percy Jackson's girlfriend?"

I hate those types of people that don't say anything, but have this kind of 'presence' that makes you want to tell them all your secrets, and you end up blurting out a bunch of shit you'd like to take back, or hire some aliens to hijack a few brains and remove. Or I could, you know, seduce Clovis for some of the Lethe in the Hypnos cabin.

Emily is one of those people, but I couldn't bring myself to loathe her.

* * *

I am at the La Push first beach, behind some rocks. I am not worried about the regular mortal inhabitants, but I'm not sure if those... whatever they were, were clear-sighted for all intents and purposes. I spray the water in the air to make a salty, watery mist and luckily a wayward sunbeam flickers on it in just the right way as I quickly chant, "O Iris, Goddess of the rainbow, accept my offering," and fling the golden _drachma_ into the floating rainbow.

Annabeth's features materialize. In the background is Rachel's cave, but the glassy-eyed heroine is just searching the works of art for anything to do with Percy.

"Annabeth!" I call, and her stormy eyes regard me. Her face is troubled, the grey streak from holding up the sky a few summers ago looking more prominent than ever.

"Alexandra." She makes a noise. "Any news on Percy?"

I shake my head ruefully, my mocha hair flying with it. "None. But I feel like I'm closer some how. Any on your end?"

The grey-eyed girl purses her lips. Annabeth says, "No, unfortunately. We've been looking everywhere."

I let her statement hang in the air. Much like after Silena's former lover, Charles Beckendorf's death, it was like the anchor of Camp Half Blood had just disappeared along with Percy. After the war, we'd hoped to get at least a few years of peace. No major threats, maybe even a few of us could try to have children. It was a long shot to think of any of the Olympian's kids living that long, but a girl can dream.

I tried to ignore the thought of little Alexandra/Paul lovechildren running around Emily's house and breaking stuff. I also attempted at forgetting how positively "blue" it made me feel, in relation my eye moods.

"Look, Annabeth, I didn't call you for no reason, though." I hurriedly explain the situation with Emily, Paul, and the rest of them. I attempt to explain the 'symptoms' they'd been experiencing. "They are all really attractive, and HUGE, like Ares on steroids, but double in attractiveness. And they're really hot, but I mean temperature-wise, well yeah, otherwise, but all the guys seem to be running fevers like at 110°F or something. Touching them practically scorched my skin. They also move faster than any human could. One second they were one the cliffs, and when they thought I was being threatened, they were almost instantly at my side. Also, one of them saw me, and instantly radiated love for me stronger than I've ever felt before. It almost knocked me over."

Her cloudy eyes calculates what it meant, as she stares back at my now hazel irises.

"You couldn't have been subconsciously trying to woo him? If you liked him, you could've accidentally done that. It's hard to get control of your powers," she tries, but I'll have none of it.

I shake my head. "No, this was different, it wasn't fake or forced or anything. And I'm almost positive this girl Emily was getting the same look from her guy, Sam. It was kind of territorial though. They looked like they would kill anyone who got in the way, without a second thought."

"So you want to know what they are?" Annabeth says and while I know her heart wasn't into it, she is obviously slightly frustrated, "They don't seem to be monsters- most don't wait so long to eat you, and the few that do toy with their food some other way." She speaks of me like I was nothing more than the prey of the animals that she could care less about, but she had a lot on her mind, so I'm not indignant. Annabeth toys with her camp necklace and the college ring in the middle of all the beads.

"Possibly a friendly tribe that was blessed by Apollo. That's what he's all about- heat, good looks quick healing, lovey dovey guys that write romantic poetry," she entertains the idea, before shaking herself out of the cloud.

She continues, "They could be lycanthropes, werewolves. I heard Jason came across a pack on his quest. Lycans are usually really warm and rather big while in human form. It's so it's easier for them to shift into wolves. I've recently heard of relatives of there's: shape shifters. Some say they can turn into any animal, while others say it's a special spirit animal or some Hades like that. They also mate for life, and when they see you, they immediately know you're the only one forever. I think it was a curse from your mom."

I speak up, "It was provably a blessing. She would've cursed them to never love, love someone they can't be with, or love countless people, more likely."

Annabeth gets this look on her face that all of us at camp think of as the _DANGER! Hide Now!_ expression, because we could all tell she is thinking something along the lines of "Percy and I". I thought it was likely she believed they are soulmates, like werewolves had.

"Other ideas?" I inquired cautiously, afraid she might blow her top like Mount Saint Helens had with Percy Jackson in the heart of the volcano.

She doesn't.

"Eros shot an incredibly fast, sick guy with a love arrow?" She suggested.

"That was my main theory, " I reply, unwilling to let myself laugh in this girl's presence. I do not know how stable she is as of this moment. I think Jamie's mom is a psychologist...

Her eyes ding! with a lightbulb moment. "Or those monsters cursed by Helios? They don't have any popular legends, but his fading spirit made them and their descendents burning to the touch and the ability to move as fast as he didir across the sky in the sun chariot."

I run my tongue over my shiny, pearly whites. "That doesn't explain the odd love wave thing. It was so strong..." my voice trails off, my head shaking slightly.

The horn sounded through Camp Half Blood, and I feel a wave of nostalgia for that place. No oddly confusing hot boys or vampires out to get me. Just a missing Hero of Olympus.

_But he's not there,_ I thought, childishly.

"I'll let you go, Annabeth," I abruptly swipe my hand through the mist and it dissipates. I turn my head to face what I'd sensed approaching behind me, my hand reaching for my golden hilted dagger, αιώνια αγάπη, or eternal love.

The chalky face becomes visible quickly, blood dripping from it's fangs.

"Hello, leech," I address it, adopting Paul's pet name for the species. It's ebony hair is short and business like. I don't fall for it's empousa charm.

"Alexandra." It gives a sick, bloody-toothed grin that makes me want to call the asylum again for the tenth or eleventh time today. Rubber rooms, please work your magic on these people. I try not to curse Dionysus.

_To hell with it_, I decide as the chalk-faced male model lunges for my neck, which I can only assume would be tastier because of the rich golden ichor. Half-bloods also don't have the option of turning to a vampire after being bitten, because ichor counters the venom like an antidote.

Fuck you, Mr. D.

* * *

**so... guyzzzz**

**How did you like it? Half of the night was spent tapping it into my tablet, so you better. Go to Hades, Mr. D**

**Anyway... ideas! Peoplez, ideas! I'd love to hear your thoughts. Hopefully not when I'm half asleep. But... if i sleep type this and am still an an awesome author...? **

**I just think it's funny that I'm better at writing when I'm sleeping, basically, at two am, that a lot of these bitches when they are fully awake. **

**But my mom is letting me play hooky tomorrow anywho because here's going to be an assembly we don't agree with at school tomorrow.**

**Guess again peoples.**

_**"I have so much left to say**_

_**If every simple song I wrote to you**_

_**Would take your breath away**_

_**I'd write it all"**_


	5. Chapter 5-Vamp Love

**Recap…**

_"I'll let you go, Annabeth," I abruptly swipe my hand through the mist and it dissipates. I turn my head to face what I'd sensed approaching behind me, my hand reaching for my golden hilted dagger, αιώνια αγάπη, or eternal love._

_The chalky face becomes visible quickly, blood dripping from it's fangs._

_"Hello, leech," I address it, adopting Paul's pet name for the species. It's ebony hair is short and business like. I don't fall for it's empousa charm._

_"Alexandra." It gives a sick, bloody-toothed grin that makes me want to call the asylum again for the tenth or eleventh time today. Rubber rooms, please work your magic on these people. I try not to curse Dionysus._

_To hell with it, I decide as the chalk-faced male model lunges for my neck, which I can only assume would be tastier because of the rich golden ichor._

_Fuck you, Mr. D._

* * *

I plunge my knife into his diaphragm and, in the process, am swatted against the jagged rocks like a life-size rag doll. My side hits a sharp point and my Black Veil Brides grey logo top tears, splitting through the middle. My black lace bra peeks through the rip in the soft, grey cotton. The rocks slit at my skin and make a laceration.

"Hades!" I curse, spinning around with a kick, the back side of my foot connecting with his cheek. It doesn't even faze him because of the scent of my blood starts coming from my stomach. My black and white chevron infinity scarf limp falls to the sand.

His red eyes widen considerably.

I hear an abundance of howls begin to take over the forest. Wolves, I think. They are werewolves/shapeshifters/whatever.

He hisses at me again. "You shouldn't have done that, sweetie." What's with monsters and calling demigods by pet names? I've heard that the Furies seem to enjoy addressing their meals by "honey" and Medusa has a fetish about that too.

His cold hand hitches onto my thin wrist. I try to bring my knife to him again, but he knocks it away with his Medusa-victim skin. Which is to say, stone. It clatters on the razor-edged rocks behind me, but finds it's natural resting place on the sand.

"Let the Hades go of me!" I screamed, but his other hand cupped my neck and he brought his fangs to the dip between my collarbone and voice box. Two sharp teeth insert themselves and I feel the worst pain I've felt since the war. I try to calm myself down enough to use my Aphrodite daughter powers. Since I can't knock him off me, and he's leeching the life out of me, I attempt something I've never tried before.

I'm going to make a monster fall for me.

I emit a eruption/tsunami wave of love and desire with me as the target. Anyone in twenty foot radius should have felt it and feel a magnetic pull for me. The vampire immediately retracts his fangs, and pulls his wintry mouth from my neck.

My heart pounds wildly in my behind my breast and my eyes burn black. I scramble away the best I can, but the leech wraps his hands around my waist.

"Don't hurt yourself, love," he chuckles. I purse my lips in disgust as he reaches with one snow white chalk hand to play with a soft lock of my dark hair from behind my knitted burgundy beanie. "You are a beauty."

"Thanks," I choke out. I bring my dagger to his gut again, but the hand that was resting at my hair smacks the knife away at inhuman speed.

"Nuh-uh, darling," he laughs, and I growl, kicking his shins relentlessly. The vampire doesn't let go of me, even when a pack of wolves the size of trucks stampede the beach.

All the families formerly on the beach run for their lives.

The man currently gripping my waist turns me so he's holding me bridal style and carries me while sprinting inhumanly quickly to the treeline. My vision morphs into a blur of color. I hide my face with my hands, as a precaution in case the vampire goes SPLAT! against a tree, and me with him. Plastic surgery isn't so cheap these days, I hear (but my half-sister Claire does have some connections…so).

While I'm mentally debating the coast of plastic surgery, my assailant ballerina-gracefully goes like a bat out of hell through the thick woods. A silvery-grey wolf chases the vamp like he holds the wolf's world in his arms. Well, if Annabeth is correct about this soul mate thing werewolves have…

Besides, I've heard when dogs see someone attacking, they try to protect the person who seems to be losing.

Yeah, I think I'm just hoping I don't die, or at the very least, if these wolves plan to kill me, my celestial bronze knife will have returned to my pack pocket. And hopefully, I will have at least a chance to turn them into golden glitter sand by stabbing them, because it works, unlike with vampy-poo.

About ten other wolves work together to herd grabby-lovestruck-vampire-dude somewhere, and the silvery wolf gets a bite in on his leg. I feel him stumble, but he recovers and bolts faster and my silver locket bounces on my chest. I move my hands from my blackened eyes and hit his jaw with my elbow hard enough to give any half-blood blunt force trauma throughout their head. It fazes him enough for me to wrap my leg through the inside of his thigh and use it as a step to shoot myself to the side.

I cover my head with my arms quick enough and roll. Rocks and thicket scrape my arms like hell, but I don't even turn my head before hot-footing it to the hills. Figuratively, of course, because with my vision shaking I can't seem to get my bearings.

I trip on everything in my way, about twenty yards away, I fall face first into a creek, but I hightail it like the demigod I am. I lose my burgundy wine hued designer faux sneaker-shoes somewhere along the way. My rose-colored heart-shaped hipster complimentary Aphrodite girl glasses tumble out of my back pocket as my dagger appears.

_Thank you gods!_

Of course, what happens is I do what I was dead afraid the chalk white undead guy was going to do: I run full speed into the trunk of a redwood tree.

As my vision turns to black, the last thing I see is the wolf's grey snout over my face, looking at me with concern in it's familiar eyes.

* * *

_My dream starts off with a literal bang! My father holds a gun over my face, covering me from the monsters, but the metal bullets have no effect. It stuns them at best._

_"Go! Alexandra, you have to go!"_

_Tears are streaming down my pretty face, and I'm screaming enough attract all the monsters in the world._

_"No! You go away! All of you- leave my and my dad alone!" You can tell they want to- there isn't much a pretty face can't buy you, but they don't. The weirdest thing happens then. The place starts reeking of perfume, and I grab a butter knife and it morphs into a golden hilted dagger. I slash all of the monsters away, but one of them throws the table at my dad._

_I let loose a blood-curling scream. "No! Dad!"_

_I stab it in between a chink in it's grimy chartreuse scales and it erupts into a pile of yellow glitter on the blue and white checkerboard kitchen floor. The scene changes, washing away with my eleven-year-old tears._

_Now I'm in a Roman temple. The marble floor was etched with fancy mosaics and Latin inscriptions. Sixty feet above, the domed ceiling sparkled gold. The whole temple was open to the wind. _

_In the center, stood a marble altar, where a kid in a toga was doing some sort of ritual in front of a massive golden stature of the big dude himself: Jupiter the sky god, dressed in a silk XXXL purple toga, holding a lightning bolt. _

_What? No, it's Zeus, not Jupiter. Jupiter is, like, a planet. _

_Percy enters the room. "It doesn't look like that," Percy muttered, eyes transfixed on the lightning bolt. He would know, I decide. _

_"What?" The girl beside him asks. She has dark hair and semi-mocha skin with a translucent hue, like she spent some time in a place with little light. I somehow know her name is Hazel. _

_"The master bolt," Percy said. _

_"What are you _talking _about?" _

_"I-" Percy frowned. For a second, he'd thought he'd remembered something, I guessed. Now it was gone. He must have amnesia like Jason. There was no other explanation about why he hadn't contacted camp, otherwise. "Nothing, I guess."_

_No, Percy, this is definitely something! I wanted to shout._

_The kid at the altar raised his hands. More red lightning flashed in the sky, shaking the temple. Then he put his hands down and the rumbling stopped. The clouds turned from grey to white and broke apart. _

_A pretty impressive trick, considering the kid didn't look like much. He was tall and skinny, with straw-colored hair, oversized jeans (the horror!), a baggy T-shirt, and a drooping toga. He looked like a scarecrow wearing a bedsheet. (Octavian, I love your style, said no one ever)._

_Percy seemed to have the same thought as me. "What's he doing?" Percy murmured. _

_The guy in the toga turned. He had a crooked smile and a slightly crazed look in his eyes, like he'd just been playing an intense video game. In one hand he held a knife. In the other hand was something like a dead animal. That didn't make him look any less crazy. _

_"Percy," Hazel said, "this is Octavian."_

_"The greacus!" Octavian proclaimed, "How interesting." I understood it as Latin, meaning 'Greek'._

_"Uh, hi," Percy said. "Are you killing small animals?"_

_Octavian looked at the fuzzy form in his hand and laughed, "No, no. Once upon a time, yes. We used to read the will of the gods by examining animal guts- chickens, goats, that sort of thing. Nowadays, we use these." _

_I want to hurl._

_He tossed the fuzzy thing to Percy. It was a disemboweled teddy bear. Then Percy noticed that there was a whole pile of mutilated stuffed animals at the foot of Zeus-Jupiter's statue. _

_"Seriously?" Percy asked._

_Octavian stepped off the dais. He was probably about eighteen, but so skinny and sickly pale, he could've passed for younger. At first he looked harmless, but as he got closer, Percy didn't look so sure. Octavian's eyes glittered with harsh __curiosity, like he might gut Percy just as easily as a teddy bear if he thought he could learn something from it._

_I don't think Annabeth would be so happy about the kind of people her missing boyfriend is associating with. _

_Octavian narrowed his eyes at Percy. "You seem nervous."_

_"You remind me of someone," Percy said, "I can't remember who."_

_"Possibly my namesake, Octavian-Augustus Caesar. Everyone says I bear a remarkable resemblance."_

_Percy didn't think it was it-obviously, but he couldn't pin down the memory. It's so obvious, I thought sadly. "Why did you call me the Greek?"_

_"I saw it in the auguries." Octavian waved his knife dangerously toward the pile of stuffing on the altar. "The message said: _The Greek has arrived._ Or possibly: _The goose has cried._ I'm think the first interpretation is correct. You seek to join the legion?"_

_Legion? I thought._

_Hazel spoke for him. She told Octavian a long speech- something about gorgons, a fight at a river (Little Timber? What kind of a river is that?), the appearance of June (whoever that was), their conversation with someone named Reyna. _

_Octavian looked surprised at the mention of this June person. "Juno," he mused, "We call her Juno Moneta. Juno the Warner. She appears in times of crisis, to counsel Rome about great threats."  
_

_He glanced at Percy as if to say, _like you.

_"I hear the Feast of Fortuna is this week," Percy says, and I blanch at the thought of fish. Ew. "The gorgons warned there'd be an invasion on that day. Did you see that in your stuffing?" They have a feast for tuna? I understand why the son of the sea god would like this place. _

_"Sadly, no." Octavian sighed. "The will of the gods is hard to discern. And these days, my vision is even darker."_

_With those words, my vision darkens, and I wake, abruptly._

* * *

The first thing I see is the concerned face of Paul and my first thought is how remarkably similar the eyes of the wolf, and Paul's eyes are.

Holy Zeus. Help me.

* * *

**hey guys i just wrote this... i know it isn't as long as usual... but i write better and longer at two am, apparently**

**i spent about three hours staring at the computer screen while thinking over which words I should use. And then, I typed a longer chapter than this... but it didn't save and I almost cried because of that... anywhoo**

**love y'all luv luv **


	6. Chapter 6- One Dragon

One dragon can ruin your whole day.

I woke up with a pain in my neck and a concerned, russet-skinned Aphrodite/Ares hybrid looming over me. I consider that a fitting nickname for their species.

My eyes flit completely open and I get a thought the Stoll brothers would be proud of. Prouder than Hera wasn't when she first saw Hephaestus's face.

"You okay, Alex?" Paul questions. His chocolate brown eyes search for any signs of pain or discomfort. I smirk.

"I'm fine actually. I could just go for a long walk right now," I add "subtle" emphasis on 'long'.

He smiles, "Good. What do you remember about before you, you know, passed out?" He seems genuinely glad.

You should know. You were there, doggy. Let's refresh your memory a bit. First you played fetch and then kill the carrier. Woof-woof. Well, I was at the beach, iris-messaging Annabeth about her M.I.A boyfriend and what the Hades y'all are. The vampire came by and decided to suck the life out of my neck. But don't worry, I'm a daughter of the love goddess so I made him fall in love with me, so he didn't kill me. But then y'all showed up and he ran off with me in his arms 'cause I layed it on a bit thick and he didn't want to live eternity without me. Then I escapee and ran straight into a redwood tree trunk. Whence I passed out.

"Yeah," I search his face for clues on how it made him feel. His nose twitches; he obviously isn't so fond of his memory of last night."I was IMing my friend and this really white guy stalks up," I basically translate to mist-seer terms. "He started kissing my neck for some reason-"

Paul growls and I hide my smirk. So the wolves are territorial.

I continue, "I'm pretty sure he was drunk, but now that I think about it, I didn't smell any alcohol, so he was probably a druggie. I mean, that explains the whole chalky white thing and the really cold hands."

Paul snorts. I mentally snort. I can't believe this guy is buying my bull. I might as well market it as _Le Shit de Bull. _I would've expected it from some pathetic mortal with no clear vision... Damn, mortals need glasses or something. Wolf brain, I guess, would be Paul's excuse.

I take in the setting I'm in and try to ignore hold close Paul is to me and how seriously he looks. The curtains are a warm, deep red, and the match the bed spread and wall art in design and color scheme. The walls are a sharp snow white. There's a red chair in the corner of the room and a mirror across from me with a faux gold frame.

Red eyes, white skin, I think. Red curtains, white walls. I try to banish the thought from my mind by continuing my falsetto story, "So, um, then these wolves came and chased the guy, who for some reason picked me up, into the forest," I ignore the way his ears perk like a dog's when I mention the wolves and try to keep my dignity intact by omitting certain parts of the story, like running into a tree, "I got away stumbling and I must've fallen or fainted or something."

Or something. Try to keep that open-ended.

Paul seems miffed I didn't elaborate on the heroics of the wolves. "Were you scared? We've had wolf sightings before and those people were usually frightened because of their size."

I smirk, "No. But you know what I think about those wolves?"

His ears perk and I compare and contrast his features to my old pet poodle, Jilly's, using a mental Venn diagram.

"What?" His chocolate eyes meet my _the-gods-know-I-don't-know-what-color_ eyes.

I crush his obvious hopes for me to say they were badass or something, "I thought they were really adorable. But you should probably alert Animal Control. I think they escaped the Hunger Games or something. They're huge- they look like they were made for killing- and they have these insanely human eyes. Like in said Hunger Games, at the finale, the dogs had the eyes of fallen tribuites, which is borderline disturbing."

His aforementioned chocolate-brown eyes look annoyed and he starts to shake sometime in the middle of my speech.

"Are you a bit cold? You look like you're shaking," I sarcastically look concerned. I pull up the other side of the red duvet and ignore the fantasies popping in my head about what we could do if he got in with me. Paul shakes harder but when my expression turns sincere, his intense shaking ceases.

Hmm. _Shakes when angry,_ I mentally jot down.

"You're really offering? I thought it would take more than that to get into bed with you," he gloats. He hasn't made a move yet. Gods, I'm a Cain Ten's go-to for the lecture on 'How to be a Slutty Harlot'. At least I know words like harlot, I sympathize. So he doesn't want to get in bed with me? I mock being miffed, turning my nose upward slightly and quirking my lips LIKE A BOSS.

I smirk again (I seem to do a lot of that), "You aren't getting any action though. I could have a concussion, so all I want is a snuggle buddy." I don't have a concussion. I know what that feels like. I'm just using him for a heater.

"I'm open for anything," Paul says. He grabs the red tip of the duvet and climbs in smoothly. I scooch over to the edge to make room for his huge werewolf ass, but Paul traps me into his hard chest with his fit arms. We fit nicely together. The heat of his body soaks into my back. His abs...

It's nothing like the vampire hugged me because of the comforting heat and it wasn't faux love generated by yours truly radiating Paul.

Is he open for doing it doggy style?

"Seems like you weren't so cold after all, " I tease.

He makes an unintelligible gutteral moan against the back of my head. I like it like this. It seems, somehow, that thiss is perfect. My life is supposed to be like this. Sleeping lazily in bed with his hot muscled arms around my torso.

I laugh. "Amen to that."

* * *

Paul and I spend the majority of the day like that- in the bed, me making tons of dog jokes he didn't get- until the clock read 2 PM and Emily walked in on us with a tray of brownies. So far, I have found out that the wolves did not catch the vampire.

"Peace offering?" Emily suggests, after she banishes Paul so we can have some "girl time".

I suppose it was worth it. "Guys aren't as reliable as brownies," I decide, moaning at the fudge-filled goodness in my mouth. I sit up, only to realize something as my eyes set on what I'm wearing.

I cut short Emily's beginning of a sentence- I wasn't listening anyway- with an inquiry. "Who changed my clothes? I remember I was wearing a Black Veil Brides shirt and denim shorts...?" My recollection curls into a question.

Emily's cheeks redden, "Well, Paul was the one who found you out in the forest, and he put his shirt on you and used your shredded clothes as a bandage for you."

_Hades_, I think, _I loved that shirt_.

Emily recommences Operation Explanation, "And I wasn't here when he brought you back here, so he grabbed some of my pajama bottoms from before I got pregnant."

Somehow, I didn't mind Paul seeing me in my ebony lace lingerie.

I nod, about to start on a new topic, "So... Oh shit!" I stare at my index fingernail in horror. The paint is chipped! "Oh my gods!"

Emily crawls on the bed with me to take a look. "What?" Concern manifests in her slightly dry tone.

"Look at my nail! It needs serious surgery or something!"

Emily snorts and I throw her a dirty look, mentally damning her to Tartarus in Greek.

"So you broke a nail?" She adds in, unimpressed.

"Call an ambulance!" I cry, increasing my panic attack. "Do you know any Emergency Room doctors?" Maybe they can help. "Surgeons?"

She blinks at my full-blown panic attack. Panic bubbles in my chest and my stomach lurchess, turning painfully at the thought of my poor, poor fingernails.

I mourn, "My nails will never match again. My index finger will have to be filed into a square and the rest will go oval because square-filing looks horrible!"

Emily laughs at my pain, "Only you, Alexandria, could have a breakdown about breaking our fingernail and be dead serious." As the vampire who kidnapped me, I itch to thread in.

"It's like losing one of your children," I wail. I'm in too sad a state to come up with a comeback to Emily's remark.

The door is almost knocked down. "Emily! Is she crying?" I hear Paul yell from outside the barrier.

"No! She broke a nail!" Emily calls downstairs.

A few laughs vibrate around the cottage, echoing.

She goes back to soothing me. "I can organize a funeral. It'll be okay. They say the pain goes away eventually," she says mock sympathetically, reaching our to rub my back. "_How can you be so distraught over breaking a nail?_" she tries to mutter under her breath, but, in fact, fails because I hear her and her face is right next to mine. We are breathing the same air.

Yeah, the pain goes away eventually because I get plastic surgery.

I give her a perfect evil 'ten and she cowers away, slapping her soothing arm back to her hip.

"Hmm... I thought you were the pregnant one. Why are you scared of me?"

It's safe to say the russet-skinned woman wasn't very sympathetic in the moments following. (I eventually found a nail file, however).

* * *

When I saw have the forest go up in flames, I was pretty sure it wasn't just reckless campers. The twenty-or-so-foot-long amethyst dragon circling several trees, as if stalking it's prey, was also a small clue.

I hear shouts sounding outside.

Emily had left me alone in this room to "rest" fifteen minutes ago, but I suspect she really abandoned me here because she got tired of my full-blown sobbing about my broken nail. But, hey, it's a big deal where I come from. I don't understand her; it's a tragedy! At camp, I could've counted at least five other girls mourning with the funeral procession Lacy would've organized. Maybe it's because Emily lives on a reservation? Is she really so deprived? And what of the poor, poor child who will never cry over a broken manicure?

My concern goes up in flames as the dragon nears the fortress- er, Emily and Sam's cottage.

I get to the window, unfortunately wearing a maroon college shirt much too large for my frame and a red and white flannel scrunchie pants. So much for a knight in shining armor. At least I'm good with the dashing good looks.

"Hope you'll settle for a chick in PJs who cries if a nail breaks." I mutter, hoisting my right leg through the window. My quadricep rests on the cool, white window pane for less than a second before I shift my weight and fall out, arms flailing. Luckily or unfortunately, I land in the branches of a small tree that happens to be a dryad, my legs bent in odd directions.

The dryad knocks me to the hard dirt. I can sense the bruises forming EVERYWHERE.

"Go! Stupid demigod," the tree morphs into a pretty-in-her-own-way brown-haired girl with skin a lime hue you just couldn't get from Crayola's crayons. "trees are dying!" she scoffs at me and flinches at the sight of flames in the distance.

"How do I defeat it?" I ask, standing and brushing myself off. I grab the hilt of my dagger.

She glares at me and I curse my luck for ending up with such a violent nature spirit. "Not with that, obviously! You need to fight fire with water! What do they teach demigods these days?" She adds, disdainfully eyeing the flames lapping at the tips of the tall trees.

I almost turn the corner of the house, but then I hear voices.

_"Sam, the forest is on fire!"_ I try to decipher the voice, and my best guess in Seth.

_"I know, the rangers should come soon."_ Sam. Emily's fiancé.

Paul speaks next, and I recognize his husky voice immediately. _"Look, with the fire, I doubt and vampires are going to bother us."_ _  
_

So fire kills the vamps? I file that in my head for later use, that is, if I do live through this.

_"Yeah, we should just relocate like they say we should."_ Emily.

There's a pause. _"Let's dig a trench around the house, and then you can go. We're protectors of the forest."_ Something about his voice feels like he's using charmspeak, because I suddenly want to dig a trench as well. But a bigger part of me needs to protect the forest.

Their voices fade, but I swear I can here the dryad huff indignantly from inside her tree. "Sure, protectors of the forest. All you seem to be protecting is your house."

I hold back laughter at the snarky dryad's antics.

I run toward the blazing forest like a lunatic. After crossing the tree line, I dodge falling timber and burning branches from the canopy. I assess the state of the forest as I run through the smokey haze. My eyes burn and tear. Not good, but would make a full recovery in a year or so if it's stopped soon. Luckily, the trees are tall so the fire hasn't made it the whole way down.

Frantic dryads run through the forest, screeching that their tree is on fire. They're disheveled, hair burning, flinching at the sight of flame. Through the thickly burning woods, I keep going like a bat out of hell, except, you know, I am running into the flames.

I wonder how the fire investigators will pin this on reckless campers' fires, because it's quite obviously burning down, not up. A sapling downs next to me and the red-hot flames scorch my upper arm. I scream in surprise.

Almost immediately, a howl breaks out.

I keep sprinting but now I have to cover my mouth and nose with my sleeve because my lungs burn. Gods, if I die from lung disease, I will throw my self a party for my inhumanly ironic mortal death. I wheeze, but I finally meet my destination. I stand in a clove where I can clearly see and hear the dragon flapping above me. _Yes, I can tell you don't mind the flames, dragon-deary, but the rest of us don't exactly feel at home. _

The ripples of his wings flapping almost knocks me back. I want to lay down and die at the effort I'm putting into moving closer. _Water_, I think, that is what the dryad said right? I could really use a drink...

"Hey dragon! Firebreath! Yo Smokey!" I scream up, over the sounds of falling trees and the sparks and pops of fire. "Over here!" I wave my arms in standard jumping jack motion.

Either the smoke is getting to my head or I'm just naturally this stupid, I realize as the dragon swings it's incredibly well muscled violet head towards me. We both pause for a second the way they do in movies when the hero is in the villain's reach, they stand there staring at each other for a second of shock,and the hero tries this incredibly cheeky little plan to get away. Capiche? No? It's in every movie. Where have you been all your life?

Then, I run.

Dodging Smokey the Dragon's firebreath is about as easy as winning a staring contest with a Medusa victim. You can't. After the third or fourth wave of fire, burns litter my arms and the only thing I've accomplished is thoroughly losing in tag with a provoked fire breathing dragon. My hair tinges against the back of my neck and I hiss at the burn on my arm.

Another figure comes into my vision, but I can't tell if it's a hallucination of Percy Jackson, or the real thing. A tan boy with familiar green eyes and messy bed head of hair runs into he clearing, sword in hand.

"Percy!" I yell with what's left of the oxygen in my lungs. Bad move. Oxygen is flammable. Very flammable. It looks like I'm breathing fire.

He swings his celestial bronze sword which gleams in the fire's light. He hits a chink in its scales. He runs for me as the dragon rears back in the air. He swung his hand over my scorched shoulders, helping me run. "Who are you? You know me?" he shouts.

I cough,"Yeah! We've been looking for you everywhere!" My ankle flies through a burning shrub. "Ow! Gods!"

"How do we defeat it?" Percy yells, pulling me into him behind a tree, fire shooting past us on either side. My arm hairs are scorched off., which I consider a bonus because I won't need another bikini waxing for a month after this. My arms turn a reddish golden brown hue you just can't get making s'mores, but I'm sure I look like I'm in hell. My ankle burns.

"Water! Use your water powers, Percy!"

He goes, "Powers?" but a creek comes into view just as the dragon lets loose another fiery breath. Percy instinctively tenses his face and the water from the creek springs up and forms a protective shield over us. The fire passes over it, and we're not harmed. I do get a good steam bath you really can't get from spas.

My pores love me now, I decide.

The dragon swoops back at the sight of water, but then comes back in with its talons. Somewhere in its dragon brain, the gears must be spinning, like: _Fire breath no turn yummy demigods into crispy well done sausages. What about raw meat_?

Percy's face is covered in ash and grime -cinder mixed with sweat- and my eyes burn. My face isn't very different from Percy's, albeit terrified. I mentally right my will, hiding my face and stumbling back, but Percy makes the water go at the dragon full force. As soon as the water touches the dragon's scales, it melts like the Wicked Witch of the West. Except, you, the dragon part. I glare at the steam in disbelief.

If I'd just brought a water bottle...

Percy helps me limp to the stream, where I dip my burned limbs in the water and hiss at the sting. He touches the water and I choke and sputter in awe at how instantly it heals him. He touches my feet in the water and I feel my whole body regenerate. I drink some to rid my throat of the smoke.

"That's awesome," I praise, my throat finally clear.

We look to the sky as it starts raining, like why couldn't this have happened sooner, but no, it's a helicopter dropping water to save the forest from the flames.

Percy and I both let out a celebratory whoop and he adds in a fist pump.

Percy laughs, " So who are you?"

I meet his green orbs, "I'm Alex, daughter of Aphrodite. I'm helping Annabeth find you."

Said green orbs widen. "Annabeth. Where is she? She's the only thing I remember." That's so sweet- he loses his memory, which I ironically forgot about, but he remember his true love, the daughter of Athena.

I make an 'awww' sound. "She's at camp-" I'm about to explain to the lost hero what's going on, but I'm interrupted with a vision of the queen of the gods.

* * *

Hmm... I think, she seems to have no qualms about going against Zeus's wishes. Also, eons old and they still don't understand the concept of 'going silent'.

The goddess wears a simple long regal white toga with the hem at her ankles and a golden clasp at her shoulder. Golden sandals adorn her feet and a light gold tiara rests on her head like a halo. A goat skin flickers offer and on her shoulders, as if unsure whether she was Juno or Hera.

"Daughter of Aphrodite, do not expose where your camp is to Percy Jackson. It will run my plan, and you will perish against Gaea's forces. He is on another path. Do not lead him astray." She spoke with finality.

I regard her. "But he will come to camp, eventually, right? Annabeth and Percy will be reunited?" Another thought occurs to me as I stand in the presence of Hera, "You did this? Why?"

She blinks at my accusation, as if she has no clue what she has done and how it affects the people at camp. "He will reunite with Annabeth, when he remembers everything." The queen of the gods spits out Annabeth's name like a glass of lukewarm water, "and don't be so quick to pass judgement on me, for what I have done will save your life. This was the only way."

I think about it, and decide she's desperate enough. "Lady Hera, may I ask for a small favor?"

She eyes me suspiciously.

"If you can make the forest grow the teensiest bit faster. It was really beautiful here before it burned." Nice spot to get proposed to, I decide mentally. I think Hera reads my thoughts and approves on the concept on my getting married. Maybe I just imagined the small smile then...?

The queen of the gods holds up her perfect hand. "Yes, as you want. It will be done. You will let my plan resume it's movement?"

"Yeah," I say. I cover my eyes as she changes to her true godly form and in a flash of bright light, I'm returned to Percy.

* * *

He stares at me worryingly. "What happened?"

"Um... a goddess just visited me."

He goes, "Whaaat?"

Just as I'm about to answer, a silvery wolf runs into my peripheral vision and Percy's direct line of sight. The wolf growls. Percy lets go of me, stands and draws his sword.

"Crap, no, Percy! Don't..."

Both Percy and the wolf cock their heads at me like I'm insane. I may have lost my mind somewhere along the way, but right now I am all right.

"I may have forgotten to mention the werewolf thing."

* * *

**hey guys. Luv you.**

**So if i don't get any reviews i won't be happy. I'm shooting for ten before I update again but in all reality if i get one review in the next twenty four hour I'll kiss you.**

**Funny reviews guys... like, please. I read them, often in a bad bood, saerching for praise so I don't go all suicidal zombie bella ape shit on you guys. So I'd like to hear funny stuff, even if you're making a joke out of my whole fucking book. **

**Flames are appreciated, if they are hilarious.**

**Like, lol, i may have forgotten to tell paul i know about the whole werewolf thing too. My bad.**

**Someone also introduced the idea of having kim be a demigod in the story... tell me what you think. There will be a poll on my profile with all of the conditions. But I only do the poll to see what you guys think and do what I want anyway**

** #dontbeaghostreader i'm also going to add random la la las so this chapter hits 4000. Record for this story!**

**La la la la la la la la la la la**

******La la la la la la la la la la **

**********La la la la la la la la la la **

**La la la la la la la la la la **

******La la la la la la la la la la**

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**This is gonna be the best day of my life. La la la la la**


	7. Chapter 7- What Are The Rules?

**Recap...**

_Both the wolf and Percy look at me like I was insane. Well, I'm not exactly right in the head, but right now I am right._

_"I guess I forgot to mention the wolf thing."_

**You and me both, Alex. LOL Enjoy!**

* * *

It's safe to say both guys were surprised at my revelation. The silver wolf, because he was sure I had no clue about the werewolf thing, and Percy, because people like us generally went out of our way to skewer abnormally large animals with sharp teeth and a tendency to growl.

Paul- I guess the silver wolf is Paul's wolf, because of all that PROTECT YOUR SOULMATE stuff Annabeth fed me about- rears back, his paws breaking burnt twigs under him. A layer of ash settles on the forest floor, falling from the trees like snow after a blizzard. It's beautifully tragic, black snow. Such a thick, serene forest has been almost burnt to what's snowing now.

Not quite, if Hera keeps her word. I wonder how likely it is.

I train my kaleidoscope eyes on the wolf. "I know it's you, Paul. Shift back or whatever you call it. _Gods, I hope Annabeth was right and I'm not just talking to a stalkerish wild animal,_" I say the last part lowly and I see Percy grin at the mention of his beloved.

The wolf springs behind a thick tree in a flash of silver fur. Paul voice rings out after a moment, "Do you have any extra pants?"

I blush at the thought of him being naked behind the coniferous tree. I see some of his tan skin through the tinged bristles. His bare, muscled shoulders appear on either side of the trunk. Percy ransacks his pack. A panda pillow pet tumbles out as he turns it upside down to empty the contents. I catch it in my sweaty hands and when I look at it, it feels like deja vu. Percy throws a pair of sweats in Paul's tree's direction.

"Are you having an intense staring contest with my panda?"

I'm shaken out of my thoughts and redness lingers on my cheeks, "Um... no." I can't exactly say 'I know this panda!' Or 'Meet the panda of my dreams!' although that would be funny. I debate it mentally.

Paul walks out from behind the tree, shirtless with skintight sweats practically molded to his legs. Melded, more like it, because of his overwhelming hotness. I stare appreciatively. Percy may be muscular, but Paul is ripped. Zeus, those abs!

My cheeks may as well be stained pink. I'm sure I look like a clown, white as a sheet, yet with a prominent blush on the balls of my cheeks, and ash smears doubling as smokey eye makeup. I have a burn on my nose that's fading with Percy's water powers.

"Alex," Paul says, breathlessly loud, "Are you okay?"

I nod. "I'm fine, " I lie, except for the fact that your abdominal muscles are killing me.

"Who are you?" The Quileute menacingly glares at Percy with contempt. He makes no attempt to be friendly with the Hero of Olympus.

Percy looks at me. I laugh. Paul's eyes fly back to me.

"Percy Jackson," the green-eyed-boy announces.

Paul makes the connection instantly, and growls, "You better be damn important if my impri- I mean, if Alex risked her life to save your pathetic..." he trails off, muttering curses too low to make out.

Percy shrugs, and I hand him the panda.

"Here's your panda," I offer.

* * *

On the hike back to the rez's town area, all is silent. Paul still hasn't wrapped him mind around the fact that I know he's the big bad wolf. Neither of them know how to bring up the werewolf topic. Distrustful glances are exchanged.

I ignore the tension like the gods ignore Mother Earth: by watching Paul's back muscles flex as he walked, of course.

Percy snorts at me, "You're really ogling him."

Oh, what do you know? Seaweed Brain knows a big boy word. Paul's ears twitch.

"Shut up, Percy," I promptly trip on a root, and before I can fall, both boys are there to catch me. Paul's smoking hands grab my arms and Percy's hands grip my shoulders from behind.

"You okay?" Percy and Paul ask in unison.

"Thanks for not letting me faceplant. I'd have to redo my makeup, " I joke. Their hands start to bear into my back. "Uh, guys? Paul, Percy, you've hurting me!" Their hands fly off me immediately and I rub out the angry red mark on my arms, getting a good look at their faces. Percy's features as fixed in a sorry expression and Paul's eyes are hard, self-loathful, and angry.

Paul growls, "_How could I do that to you_?" and shakes more violently than Zeus PMSing.

Percy's sea green orbs widen, "Is he having a seizure? Are you having a-"

I smack my manicured fingers over his full, chapped mouth. We step back. "...Paul?" I inquire slowly.

His face twists into a grimace, like he can't believe he's asking me to do this. "You know how to get back to Emily's, right?" I can't do much more than shake my head as violently as his tremors, possibly because he's shaking the ground under him like a mini earthquake.

Percy eyes me. "Alexandra..." he warns. If Paul erupts into a furry, Percy's going to slay him like a dragon with his sword, Riptide, or something. I wonder is celestial bronze harms them, or just silver. Also, I muse, judging by the size of that dog, if I'm too close to him when it happens... it would scar my face. Like Emily's! Realization dawns on my face and remember how I unconsciously decided I would be all cool about this were dog thing? No? Yeah, well, the tremors shook me back to reality.

An exclamation mark burns in the back of my skull like whiplash from a lightbulb.

_Holy shit._

He's going to kill me.

I rip away from him, not pausing to mourn the loss of his aura of heat, albeit mentally. I take off, hellbent for Emily's house."I'll go there right now!" I shriek in reply to Paul. I don't even know if the raven haired son of the sea-god is tailing me as I sprint through the ashen forest's shade. Judging by the noises of surprise coming from behind my back, Percy probably didn't get the fucking memo.

Eh, boys.

* * *

I pass into Sam and Emily's yard, and everything looks the same, except the sweaty shirtless group on the porch, drinking lemonade like it's their life source, and a freshly dug ditch circling the house. The scent of fresh soil hits my nostrils. Neither nor Percy is here yet. I momentarily feel bad for neglecting to give Percy direction.

Eh, he'll find his way. Following the trail or floods, explosions, and other freak monster disasters, is usually a good resource.

As I enter the group's superhuman earshot range, I hear Embry call, "Hey Alexandra! So what were you doing in the forest? It's dangerous."

You have no idea, Embry.

Jacob trots over with Jared at his hip. "You okay?"

I regard him, "Yeah. Has Paul been here, preferably with a living seventeen year old guy with black hair and sea green eyes... and not his mangled, bleeding body?"

They stare at me, obviously not making the connection.

"What? Who'd Paul try to kill this time?" Jared asks, scratching the back of his neck.

Only the Savior of OLYMPUS. "Nobody special. Only the guy I'm here to find and the whole reason I went into the burning woods...?"

I think I see Jared grimace, "I can see why Paul'd wanna skewer him. If Kim was you, I'd..." he lets loose a colorful sstring of cusses I've never heard before.

Asshat? Assclown? Fuckbucket's party favor? Now that's a new one.

I take a breath, and a silver wolf bounds from the woods, straight for me. The shirtless group blanches. One of the guys on the porch, probably Brady, runs in yelling for clothes. I hold my ground until he's a yard away and has stopped.

I crouch down, "Here, Paul. Aw, you're the cutest wolf I've ever seen. Wolves are just adorable." I pet the side of his face soothing. From the eyes on the back of my head, I notice the guys blanch again at my words. "Shift back, please, " I add in for good measure.

He does as he's told instantly, and my hand remains on my face. I take it back embarrassed, and a pair of cut off jeans are flung in his direction by Brady. I turn around, and he pulls his denim shorts on inhumanly fast. He's adorable, too.

Sam stands by Paul's side by the time I turn around and his serious face curls in disapproval, "You told her already?"

I ignore his question by pestering Paul with one of my own. "Now be a good boy, Paul, and tell me where Percy is, yes? I'll get you a treat. How do you feel about Kibbles?"

Paul makes a face. "Now I know what your deal was with all of those dog jokes. How did you figure it out?"

I smirk, "You didn't eat him, did you?"

Cue disgusted glances from the audience.

"God, no!" Paul exclaims, violently quaking at the thought of me thinking so lowly of him. I fight the urge to correct him. Gods, Paul.

"Calm down, Paul," Sam commands with his charmspeak voice. "We wouldn't want you to rip those jeans, especially now since you just put them on." Paul obeys.

Jacob cuts into our conversation, "Who didn't Paul eat? And Paul told you we're shifters?"

I roll my eyes, "As if. I simply asked someone. I wish I could take all the credit for guessing but I'm not THAT smart." Granted, the girl I asked did happen to previously have access to Athena's practically infinite library during the remodeling and reconstruction of Olympus. I daresay she spent more of her time reading there than constructing anything!

By now, the whole pack is standing by. Guess they want to know who knows about them and their abs.

"Who?" Paul snarls.

I giggle, "You look so hot when you're angry, wolf boy."

"So...always?" We hear from Seth. I bite back a grin. The stud muffins finally understood! All is well. Paul struggles to control himself and I flash my smile to him.

"So where's Percy?" I ask, and Paul's form blurs into a silver dog.

I'm far enough that it doesn't affect me. Glances hit me to see how I'm taking all of this. I almost laugh at their concern. I only freak about major things - Gaea, Kronos, the giants, huge sales on designer clothes. I wonder if there's any nice clothes stores around here?

"Who?" Sam echoes Paul's question in the form of a command. So Emily likes domineering guys?

"Wouldn't you like to know my sources," I say.

Paul morphs back into a human. I turn around, unable to concentrate. Another pair of pants hits Paul in the face, and in a moment he turns me around so I can look at him.

"Are you playing a game with me?" he demands, "Because if you are, I'd like to know the rules."

I flash him a fake smile, "As would I."

* * *

**hey guys what's up. 187**

**Love you. Xoxo yum cookies!**

_**"The day we met, frozen I held my breath**_

_**Right from the start, I knew that I found a home for my heart**_

_**Beats fast**_

**_Colors and promises_"**

**Sorry guys, for not updating sooner, but I was violently ill, was fine for standardized testing, and then became violently ill, one day later. **

**Love, love, love, love**

**I love you like I love my imaginary dogs.**

******I love you like I love my imaginary dogs.**

**********I love you like I love my imaginary dogs**

**I love you like I love my imaginary dogs**

**I love you like I love my imaginary dogs**

******I love you like I love my imaginary dogs**

**I love you like I love my imaginary dogs**

******I love you like I love my imaginary dogs.**

******100 most beautiful words in english**

**Ailurophile**

Inure

**Assemblage**

Labyrinthine

**Becoming**

Lagniappe

**Beleaguer**

Lagoon

Brood

Languor

Bucolic

Lassitude

Bungalow

Leisure

Chatoyant

Lilt

Comely

Lissome

Conflate

Lithe

Cynosure

Love

Dalliance

Mellifluous

Demesne

Moiety

Demure

Mondegreen

Denouement

Murmurous

Desuetude

Nemesis

Desultory

Offing

Diaphanous

Onomatopoeia

Dissemble

Opulent

Dulcet

Palimpsest

Ebullience

Panacea

Effervescent

Panoply

Efflorescence

Pastiche

Elision

Penumbra

Elixir

Petrichor

Eloquence

Plethora

Embrocation

Propinquity

Emollient

Pyrrhic

Ephemeral

Quintessential

Epiphany

Ratatouille

Erstwhile

Ravel

Ethereal

Redolent

Evanescent

Riparian

Evocative

Ripple

Fetching

Scintilla

Felicity

Sempiternal

Forbearance

Seraglio

Fugacious

Serendipity

Furtive

Summery

Gambol

Sumptuous

Glamour

Surreptitious

Gossamer

Susquehanna

Halcyon

Sussurous

Harbinger

Talisman

Imbrication

Tintinnabulation

Imbroglio

Umbrella

Imbue

Untoward

Incipient

Vestigial

Ineffable

Wafture

Ingénue

Wherewithal

Inglenook

Woebegone

Insouciance


	8. Chapter 8- A Plethora of Growls

Paul and I are interrupted from our staring contest with a yell from a familiar voice. Percy.

"Alex! Damn, at least I think that's what your name is," he curses, "Alexandra!" He stumbles out of the forest, mostly unharmed, albeit a twig in his shiny raven unbrushed hair.

"Percy!" I exclaim.

His eyes meet mine and he comes over quickly, fiddling with a ballpoint pen. Paul looks annoyed at his very existence.

I do a double take at Paul's torso. Gods, get it together, I think. you should not be in awe every time he looks like a god.

Sam speaks, "You're that kid. From her picture, " he adds hastily.

None of them makes an effort to hide their surprise. Gee, thanks. I didn't know you had so much faith in me about finding the guy. I'm not that incompetent. Is it my looks or my personality? Do I have some sort of aura that makes people sure I'm just a beautiful loser? Embry's jaw even drops, practically hitting the ground.

"You found him?" Leah says disbelievingly.

I stare at them, "No. This is an imposter. He used plastic surgery to look exactly the same as the other guy and just happens to have the same name, too." My voice oozes sarcasm.

Leah gives me a look, which I kindly return.

Percy goes, "What picture?"

There's a silence before Paul suddenly spits out, "Oh, she didn't tell you? She's been looking for your sorry ass since you decided to go missing."

Percy gets into a defensive pose subconsciously, "Dude, what the hell?" Hmm... so it's all there. Hera just... stole the actual memories, not the knowledge.

Paul storms into the house, stomping on the porch steps noisily and slamming the screen door angrily. I eye his ass appreciatively like a hawk.

Damn.

I shake myself out of it. "Any questions?" I ignore Embry's hand shooting up like a rocket. "I have boatloads for you, Percy. Like, how bad is your amnesia? Can I do your hair? Do you still have steel skin? Would you be mad if I told you I couldn't bring you back to Annabeth?"

His eyes visibly sadden, "What? Why not? I miss her so much. She's the only thing I remember. Um, yeah to the steel skin thing and please don't to the hair question." He slouches emptily and I swear my heart breaks for him.

"Um, I hate to be the weird guy here," Seth says, "but wasn't that the whole point of looking for him? To reunite the lovely couple or something?"

I blush, "Yeah, but in the forest I had a revelation. It'd be far more romantic for Percy to find his own way back to his true love. Sorry, Percy, but the only way I can help is, " I feel the spirit of the queen of the gods enter me, "_make a pit stop in California._"

"Dude, " Brady and Collin say in unison, but Seth continues, past the call of "jinx!" by Brady, "Did anyone else notice her voice got older?"

* * *

Great, just what I need: muffins! Emily baked almost a hundred of them while the rest of had a heartfelt chat outside, and I still haven't given them any answers.

Genius idea, by the way, to make so many of them, because Percy stockpiles them on his plate almost as much as the wolf pack. Not knowing when you'll get your next meal does that to you. Paul sits to my right, Percy to my left, and Jake next to Percy. Seth's directly across with me and Brady and Collin are on either side. Jared's next to Paul and Quil's next to Collin. Sam is snogging Emily next to the open oven.

I inhale a chocolate chip muffin, and I'm still the most polite eater at the table. Percy, Paul, and I took showers while waiting for the last batch to be ready, so I don't resemble a soot-covered clown anymore. I smell like lavender shampoo and hilariously, so does Percy and Paul. I eye Paul's wet hair and compare it to Percy's completely dry-

"Hey, why isn't your hair wet? Use a hairdryer?" Jared asks Percy. Σκατά

"No," says Percy, "I guess... I'm getting more of a draft here."

Most of the guys make a noise that they don't believe him. Collin stuffs two muffins in his face at once.

I run my finger through my moist hair. "So-" I start, but I'm cut off by Percy.

"So you guys are werewolves," he says, and Collin spits out muffin bits on the table in surprise. The rest of the guys eyes widen.

Sam speaks up, "How did you know?"

Percy nods his head in my direction. "Alex introduced Paul as a werewolf. Not the weirdest I've ever met, like not even close to the dragon that just torched your woods-"

I glare at Percy, as the rest of the guys, and Emily, spit out their food as Collin had done. I notice the red sunset light stream into the kitchen through the window across from me. "Percy!" I hiss, "Do you go around telling everyone stuff like that?" At the same time as Jake exclaims, "Dragon?"

I lie through my teeth, "I bet Percy's just tired, right?"

"What are you hiding?" Paul demands, "Because I know dragons don't exist, but for some reason I feel like Percy's telling the truth here." His face morphs into a unrecognizable emotion.

"I don't like explaining things, but Percy knows basically nothing right now. I suppose I can't just say that he's probably on drugs and we'll be on our merry way?" I groan. All dark brown eyes turn to me, as well as the sea green pair of Percy's.

"Well, fine," I say, "but you'll think I'm τρελός, loco crazy." I make a twirling motion next to my ear, and spin a tuft of ebony hair. They all lean closer. "Have you ever heard of the Greek myths, Mt. Olympus, gods and goddesses and stuff?"

A few of them nod.

"So, like, there was Zeus, Hera, Poseidon, Athena, Demeter, Ares, Aphrodite, Hephaestus, Apollo, Hermes, Dionysus, Hades, Hestia, and Artemis. And there were others but they were, like, minor. So anyway, in the myths, most of what the gods did would be cursing people, falling in love with mortals, and causing wars-"

Embry interrupts me, "Do we seriously need a Greek history lesson? What does this have to do with you and the so called dragon?"

I scowl, "I'm actually telling you the condensed version. I could go into serious detail on the fashions and the white pillars and tell you a great many stories, but I'm not that cruel."

Percy snorts.

"So anyway, basically their favorite pastime was making babies-"

I hear a muffled, "I don't blame them." I don't waste my time trying to figure out who it was.

"Naturally, these kids were special, with a god for a parent. Good looking, for the most part, good in battle situations, their minds were hardwired for Ancient Greek. Ancient monsters chased after them to kill them."

"So you're telling us these gods existed?" Leah says disbelievingly, "You can't be serious." I look up at her attractive, yet bitter and cold, stone hard features. Her eyes meet mine.

"I'm not telling you the Greek gods existed," I tell her, and her face becomes slack, "I'm telling you they still exist. They haven't died, remember. Gods tend to be immortal."

Now all of them look at me like I just casually informed the Secret Service how I'm plotting to kill the president, and going through with it anyway.

"You're crazy," Embry decides, and Paul growls menacingly.

Paul looks at me, "Are we being punked?"

I laugh, "I wish I could've thought this up by myself. Sadly, I have the imagination of a dead goldfish." I shake my head, and my hair soothes my neck.

Emily speaks up, "And you're a child... of a god?" She bites her lip, trying to wrap her mind around it. "From what I know about you, it fits, but..."

"Look," Percy says, "Apparently I'm not new to this stuff, but I lost my memory maybe a month ago, and I met Lupa, the wolf goddess-"

My head turns to him. "You met her? I thought for sure all the gods had gone silent. We haven't had any contact with them for months. They're not all reliable parents, but we can expect a little visit every now and then. Especially since your sixteenth birthday-" I cut myself off. "Whoops."

Percy desperately asks, "What happened on my birthday?"

I bite my lip and swallow. "A lot of people died. You saved us. You got together with Annabeth," I offer. He'd probably want to know that the most. I doubt Annabeth would be pleased if he forgot their anniversary, especially if it's already on such an important day for him.

Paul goes, "Did he cause the deaths?" and I feel his muscled arm snake around my waist loosely, but almost pulling me from Percy.

I shake my head, "Only for the people on the other side of the war."

Collin scoffs, "A war in New York? Are you crazy? Don't you think that would be world headlines?"

"No. The Mist keeps mortals from seeing what's right in front of them, but it wouldn't have mattered on his birthday anyway. Did you here about how everyone just fell asleep in Manhatten one day?"

Brady, Jake, Leah, and Seth nod slowly. "But wasn't that from some power explosion thing?"

I shake my head, "No, that was a god, Morpheus, putting all the humans to sleep."

Jake goes, "Morphine?!"

Sam says, "Are you sure you haven't joined a cult?"

I facepalm, "Dude, we don't sacrifice chickens for them or anything." We're pretty civilized. The most we really do is call them Lord or Lady and burn some food if we happen to be near a magical mood swinging campfire.

Emily's eyes glaze over, like she's trying to deduct something in her head. Her eyebrows furrow, and I find myself looking at the area her scars were. "You're a daughter of Aphrodite?"

I nod, and Paul silently asks me who Aphrodite is. "My mom is Lady Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty, lady of doves. That's how I can speak French, because it's the language of love. I have dyslexia, so I can barely read English, but Greek and French come naturally." I wish I had known this in middle school, and I would've chose French as my language class, not Spanish. I suck at Spanish, big time."That's how I stopped the vampire from killing me. My knife wouldn't work, so I made him fall in love with me."

The wolves eye me.

Paul growls, "How long does it last? Damn leech." The rest of the table hisses at the mention of the cuddly vamp.

I frown, "I have no idea how long it lasts. I've never done it before. Well, I have, but only to humans and demigods. For them, it wore off in about a week, but they would do whatever it took to get to me..."

I realize what I just said as he growls from the back of his throat. τρελός, the vampire would do whatever it takes to get to me! Paul's arms tighten significantly, and I'm pulled so close that I'm practically sitting on his lap.

"Great," Leah moans, "We get to protect another annoying girl with a leech loverboy."


	9. Chapter 9 - Easy To Forget You're Prego

**hey guys. look, I'm going through a really tough time and I'm sorry if my writing isn't really up to par. I've been reading and rereading my work continuously and fixing all the grammatical and spelling errors like a psycho grammar Nazi. It's all I have the energy for lately. i've been going in and out of depression lately and I'd appreciate any support i could get from you guys. I've been incredibly ill for the past week-in the hospital with an IV and all that jazz. I'm extremely dehydrated and my stomach was literally killing me. I'm not even going to exaggerate that that was the worst pain of my life. **

**By the way, if you haven't noticed, I'm going to be ranting my life's problems right now. There will be a chapter after all this. But please bear with me and don't skip this. **

**On top of being sick, my landlord decided he was going to sell my house, so I have until the end of August to find a new place, or I'm homeless. I've lived here, in this nice blue house, since I was six or seven. we've found a nice apartment in my town, but it's unlikely we'll be chosen for it, but we'll have another chance next year. We've found other gorgeous and inexpensive apartments/houses in the towns surrounding my town, but if we live there, there's no way I can go to my school. If I go to school in another town, I will receive a worse education- I live in the best town for school systems in the state and will be totally friendless because I make friends about as well as a dead body. **

**Never mind, I take that back. Most dead people have more friends.**

**And it's not that people don't like me- it's more like I see ulterior motives in almost anything anyone does and I'd like to think I have better things to do than spend time with people. For example, typing up my life story before a chapter for a story nobody reads and hoping somebody reads this and gives good advice instead of skipping over it like I would've done. Like, I like people in theory, but I just don't like the "getting-to-know-you" part.**

**Is that weird? . yeah. Yeah. . yeeaah. Hey yall chickes**

**Anyway, i also have serious daddy issues. Like, he calls every night complaining about how much I hang up on him, and tries to provoke me to hang up on him, and when i tell him I won't, he'll slam the phone down. How does he not understand that he causes the trouble we have with each other? I haven't seen him in about a year and a half, but we scream at each other regularly, with him on the other side of the line, changing tactics and stories like a girl changes clothes. he threw a shovel at my brother on Christmas Eve, and shove the present I gave him back in my hand. After we visited him out of our own accord. That was the last time I saw him, and damn it I WILL NOT GO BACK TO HIM IF MY LIFE DEPENDED IT. I'M SERIOUSLY DEBATING WHETHER WHEN/IF I GET MARRIED, I'LL SEND HIM AN INVITATION.**

**I know I don't want a normal life, but I also know that I wish it was just a little simpler. I don't want my life to be a sitcom- God, if my life was as happy as the people's in Good Luck Charlie, I'd kill myself. Either that or travel to somewhere, anywhere in the world that I could be depressed, because honestly, if my family and friends were as happy as Disney made them out to me, I'd be a fucking BANSHEE. I'd need to get away, to help someone who isn't nearly as happy. Someone whose downright sad. But I wish my life was happier. **

**Yay, so now that I've got like half my feelings out...**

**Here's a joke. Knock knock.**

**The leader of the vegetarian society just couldn't control himself anymore. He just needed to try some pork, just to see what it tasted like. So one summer day he told his members he was going on a vacation. He packed out of town, and headed to the nearest restaurant. After sitting down, he ordered a roasted pig, and impatiently waited for his delicacy. After just a few minutes, he heard someone call his name, and to his great chagrin he saw one of his fellow members walking towards him. Just at that same moment, the waiter walked over, with a huge platter, holding a full roasted pig with an apple in it's mouth. "Isn't that something," says the leader after only a moments pause, "all I do is order an apple, and look what it comes with."**

**"Sir you have got to help!" said the tearful man at the door.**

**"There is a family that I know very well that is in desperate need of money. The Father has been out of a job for over a year, they have five kids at home with barely a bit of food to eat. The worst part is, that they are about to kicked out of the house and they will be left on the streets without a roof over their heads!" The man concluded with one last heart wrenching sob.**

**"Well," said the man at the door, "that really is a sad story. Why don't you come inside and we'll talk about it a little more."**

**"So how much money is needed exactly?" asked the man when they were both seated.**

**"Oh it's really terrible", said the man starting up again.**

**"Why just for the rent $3000 is needed by tomorrow otherwise they'll be kicked out onto the streets."**

**"How do you know so much about this situation?" asked the man as he reached for his check book.**

**"Well," said the man breaking down once more "they are my tenants."**

**Joke jokee As a first grade teacher, I often hear from my students things going on in their family. Harry's mother was expecting, and naturally Harry was very excited about it. When one day Harry stopped talking about it I was concerned and questioned him why. "Well", Harry said, "my mother told me I could feel the baby moving in her stomach, I think she ate it!"**

Without further ado:

***regal red curtains open***

**I don't own either of these books series and I am glad for one of them. Guess which one makes me puke, but I like in theory?**

**Guess what- I have an obsession with werewolves. I wish I was part of their world. They know who their soulmate is. The rest of us are still looking... *pouts***

**Also, note this: IV is not comfortable. It's like permanently having a shot for hours. It absolutely sucks.**

* * *

Dear Karma, I have a list of people you missed.

Namely, **my dad**. Also featuring:

**The stephag**- sorry, stepmom. They are very easy to mix up. You know- hags and step moms.

The step hag's weirdo son, **Jackson**. Also, my weirdo stepbrother.

The step hag's weirdo son's Harry Houdini **Tarantula.** We're not even going to go into this encounter, but all can safely say an encounter in the shower left both parties confused, traumatized, and estranged. One ended up in the hospital, as well. The other... is still happily eating what ever shit spiders think is good food in the tightly sealed glass cage. I, to this day, am not sure how it managed to escape. And secretly still harbor a fear of that shower.

**Percy Jackson**. "Di immortales! O Zeu alloi theoi, Percy, how could you be so stupid?" That, would be me, telling off the stupid idiot moronic son of Poseidon who showed a bunch of unbelievers his water powers before they got their minds wrapped around it.

"I said I was sorry!" he protests, sending a look at the faces of the wolf pack. "Sorry!" he repeats, sputtering. He puts a full head of raven hair in his hands.

Leah finally says something, "Did he just... make the water come up from his glass and into his mouth... without even touching the glass?"

We both nod. "That's about the gist of it," I say. For those of you without Athena's daughter lessons, gist means summary.

Brady starts grinning wildly, "That was-"

"-awesome," finishes Collin, "Can he do it-"

Brady cuts him off, "-again, except with-"

"-bubbles?" asks Collin. I make an impressed face. They actually knew what the other was going to say. The Stolls even mess up sometimes. I will catch these too off guard one day, I promise myself, scheming.

I twirl a finger at Percy, indicating he does as he's told. "So you guys believe us now?"

Sam takes a breath, ready to speak for all of them, but Jacob cheekily says, "Well, we don't think you guys belong in a mental hospital anymore, per say. How do you feel about a circus or a magician's act? The Incredible Perseus and the Awesome Alex, his assistant."

Percy and I both immediately protest. "Seriously," I say, "I would not be his assistant!" at the same time as Percy threatens him to not call him Perseus. So it basically comes out sounding like, '_Seriously, I do not call the Bee his full name Assistant!' _for all the non-werewolf type hearers. Not sure what that was supposed to mean. It's open to interpretation. Even some of the werewolves tilt their heads in confusion. CONFUZZLES, CONFUCIOUS YODELS!

Anyway, Sam clears his throat, and it comes out like an animalistic growl, "You can control water? Who's your parent?"

Percy shrugs, "Beats me. All I can remember is Annabeth."

"The sea god, " I thread in, "Percy's his only son since World War Two, when the Big Three gods, the original brothers, made a pact to not have any children with mortals because they were so dangerous and powerful they started wars. Percy defeated the War God, Ares, when he was twelve! He also got Hades, the third most powerful, pinned down with his sword to his neck a few months ago! When he was a baby, someone put a snake in his crib and he strangled it just like Hercules. And he broke Kronos's time spell in minutes, when it took the king of the gods years to do it!"

Percy looks proud of himself. Jacob looks impressed.

Paul says, "How do you know all of this about him?" He sends a green, envious look in Percy's direction.

I feel my face redden, and I look down, "Um... he may have a fan club that I stumbled into a few meetings of...and they tell about all his feats at the campfire. "

It's Percy's turn to blush. "Look-" he starts, rubbing the bridge of his nose uncomfortably under Paul's jealous gaze. My eyes swirl hazel with black laced in.

Seth goes, "So all of this is true?"

I nod. "Every word. We're children of the Olympians."

"Not the athletes," Jacob guesses.

"No, not the athlete. But the Olympics did come from Apollo and a wind god competing for someone's affections," I answer, "I already told you this-the Olympian Gods. Psh, never thought I would quote Mr. D, but this is a miserable job, working with people who don't even believe!" I take a bite of mashed potatoes, inhaling the starch-filled buttery goodness. At camp I usually eat salads, and on quests-well, this is my first one, but from my experience the food isn't very filling or tasty. Emily's cooking however, is amazing. Practically ambrosia. Food of the gods. I also like angel cake. It's especially good with extra coconut and a splash of lemon/honey/chocolate syrup.

Basically, I've got a sweet tooth, so it's a good thing I spend most of my time at camp, only visiting the step hag and my dad on alternate school years. Then, I'm too repulsed to eat anything anyway, only to throw up blood and leave a few days after I arrive.

"Mr. D?" asks Leah. I ignore the grim-faced girl I heard some of them calling a harpy behind her back. Pfft- she's nothing like the real bat-faced devil chicken hybrids. They are much cuter, although admittedly less fit than the wolf girl.

'"Our camp director, " I explain. "is the god of wine. He's also a jackass."

"What will it take to get you guys to believe us?" Percy asks, and Paul growls something under his breath that has Seth snickering and Sam glowering (although that may just be his resting face).

Emily smiles, sighing, "I believe you!" Not saying you shouldn't, darling, but why? And here I thought the mortal would be the most disbelieving. I guess she's just seriously open-minded. The rest of them are just exclusively open-minded.

Sam says, "I guess we believe you... it's just we hadn't expected another myth to be true. We should just stop being surprised."

I laugh. "We just classify everything as true now. Like, those of us who went to mortal school longer, still believe the sun is a big fiery ball of gas, which is just gossip from someone overhearing Artemis calling Apollo, the sun-god, a big fiery ball of gas." Apollo's hot. End of story.

Percy and I are just clearing up stray questions like "How often do you see your parents?"; "Why did you fight the time dude?"; "Why do monsters kill you?"; "They can be killed but they don't die?"; "Who is Gaea, and why would we work for her?".

"I knew Earth Day was pointless," mutters Leah. Yeah, don't help the Earth Mother. Ha! Satyrs would murder you in your precious beauty sleep. I scour her face for clogged pores. We should go for steam baths and spa treatment together, I muse.

I debate mentioning it, but soon, Emily says we should probably go to sleep, and shows me and Percy to separate rooms. I instantly recognise mine as the one I snuck out of, so I don't bother scouring for escape routes in case of an emergency U & A. Percy is led to a blue room crisscross the hall from mine, next to the picture of a black wolf. I know he instantly approves, because I didn't go to those fan club meetings for not. I _know his favorite color, bitches!_ I think triumphantly.

I hit the sack- erm, comfortable red duvet, and as my face connects with the crisp white cushions, I'm out.

* * *

_I dream of a chasm. An unrecognizable mutter seems to echo through the chamber. The pit behind me seems to exhale a cold blast of air. That's when I knew with certainty- the chasm did go straight to the Underworld. My dream is fuzzy, like we're underground with no signal. I can barely hear anything, but I know conversations are going on._

_Something- a spiderweb, dragged a blonde girl ( Annabeth?) by her ankle toward the pit. She sobs, and a black-haired boy__- Percy, probably, tries to secure her with his arm, but the wiry spider silk pulls her down. They fall, Percy managing to snag the edge off the ledge with one hand. There's almost an evil magnetic pull toward it that pulls my mind to it. I resist as well as I can._

_I hear a voice from in the darkness, No _escape, _it promises._ I go to Tartarus, and you will come too.

_"Let me go, " she croaks. _

_Percy says something to someone else, "I'll see you on the other side! Lead them there! Promise me!" My dream skips around like a static filled call with bad connection."__We're staying together, " he promises Annabeth, "You not getting away from me. Never again."_

_I almost cry at the sheer love he has for her. I finally understand the saying, LOVE IS SACRIFICE. _

_He lets go, and they fall together into the unknown._

* * *

I wake refreshed, and slip on a designer sundress from my unfillable bag. It's the golden-yellow HERVÉ LÉGER Radiant Sun Zigzag Trim Bandage Dress. I pair it with these gorgeous sixty dollar Seychelles Gale Force Wedge Sandals. It's cute, and I add one of those faux straw hats with a ribbon people sometimes wear to th beach. I flick my wrist, and my nail polish changes to match my dress.

Gotta love my powers.

"-Hey, Alex, I got some clothes for you... Wow." Emily eyes me up and down shell-shocked. "Where'd you get those?" she asks suspiciously.

"Closet in your pocket charmed handbag," I say. "It's really handy, and I can just envision what I want and it appears, but this bag doesn't go with anything!" I wrinkle my nose at it. I look her up and down, and smile deviously. "Hey Emily, sit right here. You are not going down there in grey sweats. You're going to surprise the socks off your husband."

She makes a move to protest, but I guide her to the bed despite. She goes silent as she gazes flabbergasted at what I pull out of my handbag. "Whoa, " she breathes, croaking in surprise, "does that even fit inside there?"

"Magic," I remind her, laying out the primrose Valentino Techno Couture dress, with a mock neckline with the signature Valentino bow in the front, with voluminous ruffles going down. The dress reaches about knee-length, definitely longer than my regular mid-thigh style. Her eyes practically devour the dress.

"It's beautiful," she says, and I smirk, fishing out a silver brooch and silver heels.

"Put them on!" I order, "I'll serve breakfast, assuming it's already made." I can't cook to save my life. I burn water. Perks to living in Camp Half-Blood, the only KP duty you're assigned is dish washing. And you only get that if someone up there really has it out for you.

"Yeah, it's ready, " she mutters, not entirely there. I twist and pull at the doorknob to leave, but as I swing it open, Emily jumps me. I get tackled to the floor in a hug. My back cracks. Di immortales!

"Ow," I say, just as Emily starts crying, "Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!" Pregnancy hormones, I groan mentally. Yay. I hope that dress fits pregnant women. Eh, I think so. Don't question the bag. It knows her size.

I realize something. "Em, given your current state, I don't think it's wise to tackle people."

She goes, "What?" blushing, with a cute little furrow knitting her eyebrows.

I say bluntly, "You're pregnant."

Red stains the balls of her cheeks, "I can't believe I forgot I was pregnant." We lay on the floor for a few minutes, and then we assist each other getting up.

"Yeah, it doesn't sound like something easily forgotten," says a familiar voice. My head flies up and I come face to face with a girl I was sure was a woodland animal or dancing in the Underworld. O Zeu alloi theoi, I curse. Di immortales.

"Hey, Kim!" Emily says cheerily, grabbing the dress to show the girl, but our eyes are glued on each other's lovely features.

"Kim?" My eyes widen, "I thought you were dead!"

Kim Connweller has the same reaction. "Alex!"


	10. Chapter 10- Hades' Pet Puppies

**hey guys. Wazzup? Three thousand words in this chapter, just cause I'm almost OCD. And I'm shooting for twenty five thousand. Love you Sethykins!**

**Anyway... yay luverss**

* * *

**Flashback of last chapter...**

"_Yeah, it doesn't sound like something easily forgotten," says a familiar voice. My head flies up and I come face to face with a girl I was sure was a woodland animal or dancing in the Underworld. O Zeu alloi theoi, I curse. Di immortales._

_"Hey, Kim!" Emily says cheerily, grabbing the dress to show the girl, but our eyes are glued on each other's lovely features._

_"Kim?" My eyes widen, "I thought you were dead!"_

_Kim Connweller has the same reaction. "Alex!"_

* * *

I set my eyes on the dark-haired girl with the bronze skin, and all I can think is '_Ghosts are usually pale, right?' _

I gape at the girl. She stares back, a guttural noise coming from the back of her throat, like I'm some chore she forgot about doing and it's coming back to bite her in the behind. Her mouth opens and closes like a Poseidon-worshipper (AKA fishies) but my jaw stays level to the hardwood floors. (Do I mention what floors look like often or what? It's like every other thought!)

This is a girl that I expected to be granted a position in the Fields of Punishment, unless Hades was feeling particularly generous and hateful to Artemis that day (in which case she has equal chances for Tartarus and Elysium). How I did not expect to see her again: living and breathing, at some werewolf pack house in the middle of gods-damn Washington, I might add! Also, I considered her a dead girl that I have grown a grudging respect for. After all, she was/is the one "immortal-virgin-girl" who finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel and broke her vows to the prude goddess. I choke on my spit.

My stomach pulls a 'Flappy Bird' and I'm sure I look queasy, 'cause Emily flashes Kim a withering look.

"What did you do to her? Murder her in another life?" she hisses to Kim Connweller. I almost laugh, hysterically, not at the funniness of her statement but rather the irony that I, in fact, am the one sure I killed her. Kim shakes her head in response.

"I thought you were dead!" I declare. I blink several times to be sure I'm not still hallucinating from the monster venom a few weeks back. I inconspicuously pinch my arm, to be positive. "Ow!" I hiss, muffled by my own mouth.

I hear noises from downstairs. "Is she okay?" Paul's voice yells.

"She's fine," calls Kim, "Just an accident."

Emily burrows her face in her arms, chanting, "And I thought my life had drama before this? I didn't know what drama was! This is like a soap opera. Steal your cousins boyfriend? Psh, that's nothing in this soap!"

I bite my lip to keep from laughing, but stay on guard with Kim, the ex-hunter. I guess I should explain how we got involved. It's a long story. Kim is a daughter of Athena, the almighty wise goddess of creep gray birds, and she was running for her life and Boom! Met Artemis and her group of animal-murdering prudes. She joined that weird virgin group, and they went to camp. We all have a bead on our necklaces featuring seven burning cabins. Some campers have even been cursed to get a first-degree burn whenever they touch it! Anyway, when the Aphrodite cabin was aflame, it was the only cabin that wasn't the hunter's fault, and Kimmy here helped me out. She wasn't prejudiced about me being a daughter of the love goddess, and I was too traumatized to repeat the droning chant of my cabin mates. 'I'll show you _love is worthless!_' and all that jazz isn't exactly your main priority when you're screaming in pain that you almost got killed by Greek fireworks (the type featuring that green 'never go out' type of flame). After, when the hunters were leaving, I hexed her so she would find her true love one day. A few years later, I heard that she broke her vows to Artemis and hadn't been heard from since.

Naturally, I assumed she was rotting in Hades, and not living with a pack of wolves. That's generally what happens when you piss off a god. Goddesses are especially vengeful when scorned. Percy Jackson is still the only demigod I know of to beat a god- much less two! And several Titans, all on his lonesome (pretty much).

Also, I whisper, "I thought I was the reason you died, Kim. Because of my curse, or blessing, depending on how you think about it."

She gives me a slight smile. "No, I was just kicked out because of my choice. I did not die-"

"Obviously," I cut in, but she continues.

"-but how was it your fault? What curse?" Kim asks. Her brown hair moves over her shoulder naturally as she swings her head to face me more. I run my eyes down her still healthy body. She doesn't look cursed by the psycho virgin moon goddess, but she still seems to have that natural silver aura around her. Protecting her. I inhale her natural woodsy scent mixed with the musk of Jared and smell of her strong strawberry shampoo. I don't allow myself to admit there were some advantages to joining the Hunters- my heritage didn't let me, and I am still miffed about being smited by them on their last visit to camp but subconsciously...

I mentally write it off for having an obsession of being beautiful.

I bite my lip in nervousness this time. "I used my powers to ensure you met someone you couldn't resist, so you would leave the little virgin cult."

She lets out a belly laugh. "Ha! Little virgin cult? How many offensive names do you have for the Hunters?"

I mentally list a few, as I eye her bronze skin jealously. Damn! _Okay, there's LVC, the virgin club, the prude group, the little love-me-nots… okay, that one sucked. Man-killers, the reason modern guys don't like the woods…_ "26, but most of them suck."

"I'm sorry you felt responsible," she adds, seeing me still wincing in foresight of a vicious attack, "but I'm happy with Jared. So thank you."

I choke. "You're dating Jared?" My voice changes into the girl-talk higher-pitched form of the gum-chewing popular girls everyone hates. Maybe she'll get a happy ending at last! My personality, however, does not match up with any stereotype. There's not really a slot for a beautiful, sarcastic, cynical, critically analytical, hopelessly romantic, smart, monster-slaying enthusiast.

Her cheeks redden shyly. "Yeah…."

I subconsciously 'awwwww' and verbally transmit my thoughts to our conversation. She's like a tomato. A gorgeous, bronze-skinned, red-cheeked, shy tomato.

Eh, seems legit.

* * *

The apocalypse will begin in La Push, Washington. That's not an opinion, it is a fact. It is not very well-known but more deserving of the Nobel Prize than the invention of a lightbulb. After two days here, I can safely say that Transylvania has less monster attacks.

My chest heaves and my heart beats so hard it just might burst out of my chest. _Dear Prometheus, now might not be the best time to ask- considering your predicament. Being pecked to death by birds is never fun. Especially when your organs grow back each day, so you can't properly die. However, do you make ribcages in larger sizes? Preferably XXX, just in case._

After breakfast, which included a fiasco involving muffins, a dare involving shooting muffins off someone's head, and explaining how Kimmy-bear and I know each other, we all faced near death at twelve-thirty. A pack of Hellhounds found it's way here and tried to attack us.

I'm currently hiding under a table.

The kitchen-table-squad consists of the imprints (another word for soul mates to these weirdo wolverines). Kim, Emily, and me. Percy's out their fighting like a good boy. Paul forced me to relinquish my weapons so the pack could protect us. I put up a good fight, but am sadly now tightly fastened to a table leg with rope. _This is so kinky_. Kim, somehow _forgot_ how to defend herself, because she doesn't have any qualms against hanging with the dusty spiders under a damn table!

And to think she's a daughter of Athena. I thought with the whole Arachne fiasco….

Truthfully, I think Kim just wants to play the damsel in distress to get back on Jared-o's good side after lying to him about who she was for a few years. Thankfully, Hellhounds aren't the smartest of monsters. They would eventually realize we are under the table, but it would take them awhile.

I dodge their snapping, venomous fangs as best I can. "Good doggy," I whisper inaudibly. Remember, this isn't Mrs. O'Leary, that cute doggy that's sometimes in the practice area with Percy and, a long time ago, Beckendorf, ex-Silena's ex-beau. I almost tear up at the thought of my dead sister and her equally dead boyfriend, but I remember crying is a choking hazard.

Don't children to anything that's good for their health?

To Kim, I hiss, "Untie me!" She shakes her head, and Emily uses a sharp kitchen knife. I only have time to be thankful for a second before the monster catches a glimpse of the glint against the silvery steel knife. _O Zeus, _is all I have time to think, before the table gets knocked off us and against the room.

I glare at Kim childishly just a two more huge dogs burst into the kitchen from the porch. The food room is in shreds- curtains bitten, rugs in little cutlets, claws against the precious countertops that I could just _feel_ pregnant Emily mentally whimpering about.

Black and silver, I notice, and they don't look like Hellhounds. I feel for my weapon before cursing the silver wolf for disarming me. I back up, with my hands in front of me, snatching another meat knife off the scratched granite island top.

The Hellhound lunges at Kim, and I plunge the steel knife into its body. No kill. Zeus, it is really hard killing monsters without celestial metals, but it's possible. You just have to be a pro or have a being up there determined for you to live.

Not many of us have that luck- and Percy Jackson has the opposite.

It twists and writhes in agony, and I rip the knife from its body just as the silver wolf flies onto the bigger dog; its sharp teeth digging into the pets of Hades. The ebony wolf nips at the Hellhound's back, while the silvery one gnawed its neck. The head falls to the ground, severed, and the tortured fire dims in its eyes.

I smile triumphantly, although I have accomplished nothing. Pfft, that's an accomplishment in and of itself. _Yay, that was Paul and Sam, _I presume.

"Thank you," Kim says.

Emily looks stunned. Her windblown look adds to that factor greatly, since her dark locks are swept behind her face like she rode 200 MPH on a rollercoaster without a seatbelt. Her hands twitch, shaking slightly. Her lips are slightly ajar, like she's trying to think of what to say. She blinks rapidly. I wonder if the Mist is affecting her right now. Her eyes focus on the two wolves eyeing her with concern.

We hear battle noises outside, until, with a clang and a hiss, a yell of victory is called. Several triumphant howls sound subsequently.

As well as a: "Gods, man! I could've lived happily without seeing your junk!"

Emily clears her throat. "Well? What are you two still doing in my kitchen! You're not supposed to phase in here. Go put some clothes on and help us clean up this mess."

The pack parades in here after a few minutes like nothing of consequence happened. Sam tramped in quickly and kissed Emily on the mouth, with a few, out of habit, lingering on her no longer scarred cheekbone.

Leah winces, biting her lip to stop a bitter remark from slipping out. I knit my eyebrows. By the way she looks at them, she used to like Sam or something. What Emily said earlier, up in the hallway, comes to the front of my mind. _'And I thought my life had drama before this? I didn't know what drama was! This is like a soap opera. Steal your cousin's boyfriend? Psh, that's nothing in this soap!' _**Steal your cousin's boyfriend?** Leah and Emily are cousins?

I almost say, 'How could you?' to Emily, because of what she did to Leah. It's different with people at camp. You don't have cousins, you have sisters, but most of them don't care so much about you. They don't think you're so hot. You think of them as acquaintances, you don't care to know them. But there are those few- Lacy, Mitchell, Piper- who are kind of good enough to be your sister. You would never date their ex. But when it comes to Arianna and Drew?

Their exes fall under the category of: Fair game.

Emily and Leah were probably close. I eye them, searching for similarities. Same nose structure. Same russet hue covering their faces. With minimal makeup, you see their face clearer. Both have practically poreless skin. Leah is taller, but it's a side effect of lycanthropy. Brown eyes, but Emily has darker hair. Their lip quirk in the same fashion when or if, they smile. I guess, it was the imprint thing, that wedged them apart. I blink, in regret, that I thought this was perfect. It's not, it hurts people.

I need to stop hurting people. I can't do this to Paul. I always seem to break hearts, because I'm upholding tradition. Heartbreak is a trademark of my mother's. Sometimes she counts it as a blessing, even. She's more loco than Lady Nemesis._ Love comes with a price, _my ass.

I just can't break his heart. He'd stand by me forever (he doesn't even have a choice) and every bad thing that's happened to everyone in the last three days is whose fault? Mine.

Percy walks in behind Leah, and stand by the side. Paul lingers beside me, but I step away so his body heat doesn't affect me. _Ignore him,_ my conscience orders. I can't hurt anyone anymore.

I just can't do it.

Plastering on a fake smile, I help Emily pull a batch of muffins from the oven. Somehow it hadn't burnt. I bring it up to my mouth, bite down and inhale the blueberry goodness the Muffin Queen had hexed up. I try not to show what I am feeling.

Percy flashes me a look that could've meant 'Are you okay?' or 'Is that all you are going to eat? Are you crazy?'. Paul is too busy inhaling muffins with the rest of the pack to notice the obvious 'SOS' expression on my face. I nod, and let him stuff three or four into his pie hole.

_It's okay. I'm okay,_ I lie.

O God of Truth, please don't curse me for lying so much.

_What hurts the most, is being so close. _

_Watching you walk away and having so much to say. _

_And never knowing what could've been. _

_Is what hurts the most._

At dinner, Percy declares, "I'm only going to stay for a few more days." We're sitting on the scratched floor (the table splintered into a million little pieces), with spaghetti on our laps.

Paul looks obviously relieved at his proclamation. He really doesn't like the guy.

Kim openly gapes at him. "You're not going to camp?" She can't imagine it. She, unlike the majority of the Hunters, like Camp Half Blood and all it had to offer. A personal favorite of hers is the lava wall.

"She won't tell me where it is," Percy lightly accuses me.

I plead guilty. "He'll get there eventually. I made a deal with the queen of the heavens, and he'll return to Annabeth and everything will be happy soon. You just have to do a quest for her first. Relatively easy, as your quests go." I lie between my teeth. Hera never told me what she wanted him to do, but he won't die, so life is good.

Sure…

Kim speaks, "You made a deal with WHO?! That woman... Percy, camp's in-"

I yell loudly, "YOU CAN'T TELL HIM! PEOPLE WILL DIE!" The pack's eyes widen at my statement. Don't they know already? The purpose of my life is to confuzzle people. Percy looks mildly interested, but resigned, at the fact that I'm a stubborn asshat. Ah, donkeys...

Kim and I have a stare down. Both Paul and Jared growl.

She sighs, resigning. "Fine."

And that was that. For now, at least.

We begin to listen to a monologue by Seth about what he was going to do tomorrow. It was nice, to hear his chipper babblin'.

Too bad, Seth. It's be nice for you to actually go do bumper cars tomorrow, but with THREE half-bloods in the same area...

Better set a raincheck.

I hope his tickets are refundable.


	11. Chapter 11-Blue Pancakes

Paul's eyes harden at the compromising position my body's sprawled in- old fashioned frisky femme black and red corset with an underbra adorning my fit torso and silken ebony and red lingerie hanging delicately on my core, ankles fastened harshly to the bed posts, arms wrapped unyeildingly around a cold body, and mouth overflowing with a surplus of delectable white substance dribbling down my chin. I realize the body is dead all too late- because I am focused on the sweet marshmallow fluff- and Paul's eyes are burning the vampire with enough fury to make the Queen Fury, Alecto, flinch, emitting Superman-esque laser beam vision just oozing with hatred. The moment the dead man under me speaks, Paul's form blurs into a giant, vicious, silver puppy. Paul's fur glitters in the daybreak indigo light and mist sweeps the ground around his silver paws.

"_Mutt_," the leech mutters, condescending turned possessive, "She's **MINE**!"

This is the second time I've ever hated being a daughter of Aphrodite (and twice in one month). _Uh, Mommy, a little help here? _Aphrodite isn't the most helpful of of the gods to her children. She loves them, as she ought to, and makes it her life goal to see them starry-eyed at least once, but does nothing when it turns star-crossed. She simply sits back and enjoys the show.

The silver wolf bears it's razor blade teeth menacingly, whether focused on moi or the bloodsucker, I am unsure. Both of us get the message, however. I squeeze my eyelids shut, blocking the easy flow of streaming tears and ignoring the facts swimming to the forefront of my mind's tropical beach, about how to avoid wrinkles. Lightning crackles overhead and I think, _Figures the oh so dramatic lord of theatre is having a field day over this!_ Storm clouds pelt my uncovered skin with freezing raindrops.

The leech keeps me in an even tighter wrist lock. Damien grins at me eerily. I shiver. And how exactly am I on first name basis with a vampire? That's part of the reason Paul may or may not be growling at me. Probably not, since I'm his soul mate. Or some shit.

Paul snarls. And all Hades breaks loose.

* * *

**Two weeks earlier...**

A bubbly giggle escapes my smooth **Baby Lips-**ed lips as Paul tickles me unyeildingly. I struggle to convince myself to keep to my own terms (War is NOT a great time for a flighty dalliance or fling, much less a committed relationship. Ares may have different ideas), but lately the lines have begun to conflate, blending together like shades of chalk. My normal character is not demure, or even slightly shy and reserved. Not even kind of.

However, desperate times call for even more desperate measures, as said by who the hell knows, child of Athena or something. I squeal, and my sides ache for solitude. Well, not exactly, since I'd love for his magical hands to be on my waist- just not cruelly torturing me with feather-light touches. The desperate times part refers to both my insane array of firework feelings for the magical-handed, Aphrodite-Ares hybrid, copper-skinned wolf-man and Camp being on the brink of all-out war on Earth. It's the day Percy set to leave, which is probably why Paul is in such a lighthearted mood.

"Paul!" chided Emily, "Give that poor girl a break."

I squeal as he rolls me off his lap again to the quilt-covered couch. My eyes a gold, and not in the possessed by Kronos or vegetarian vampire way. I'm just happy. My pajamas are mussed and my dark locks are in no better condition. I tug my flowing rosy efflorescent strappy tank top down to cover my belly button and readjust my fluffy love-covered pants. Today I am as effervescent as Orange Soda and I'm grinning broadly as Percy drags his feet desultory down the wooden stairs.

"Good morning, Percy! Did you sleep well?" I chirp. Paul tugs at my waist so I'm back where I started, on his lap.

Percy makes a noncommittal noise grunt that sounds something like, "Mornin'." I quirk my head at him. He resembles a good-looking Greek God zombie. What was he doing all night?

I repeat my thoughts aloud, and before Percy has a chance to answer, Embry tromps in with an evocative grin on his face. "Yeah, Percy, what _were _you doing all night?" It was so not my intention to be suggestive.

Percy murmurs, "Sleepin'," and collapses at the table with a dull thud, sea green eyes gorging on the plate of pancakes before him.

Embry looks like he might explode with holding back, so he decides not to. "With who?" Embry adds. I roll my eyes cheerily. I suppose he would die from suppressed innuendo.

Percy eyes the waffles hungrily, and then blurts out, "Do you make these in blue?" Then he looks confused, as if he might be remembering something, but doesn't know what. Emily gives him a confused look. Sam walks in the kitchen.

"Why would you want them blue?" she asks.

He shrugs. "It's just something... You know, one of those things you know were important to you, but you don't know why." I suppress the urge to blurt out that it was his favorite color because of a conversation with his mother and his ex-stepfather, Gabriel Ugliano. Yeah, we fangirls do get around. Emily shrugs and bends, opening a cabinet, extracting a bottle of blue food coloring and adds it to the next batch. Embry covers his plate of pancakes in a ocean of maple syrup. Sam waits until she turns to plant a peck on her cheek. She grins, turning her face away shyly.

"Good morning, love," she welcomes him. He replies accordingly. I smile at their felicity, and Paul sets me on my feet as he goes for a second plate of pancakes. Soon, the rest of the pack walks in, except Jacob and Jared, who are on patrol for the oh so lovable vampire race. I've already had my fill of the dulcet syrup and fluffy pancakes.

So I gambol my way upstairs, skipping to get dressed in normal clothes before we go to the beach and send the son of the sea god off sometime at noon. 11 to 2ish. Surprisingly, Seth Clearwater did get to go play bumper cars, because we haven't had an attack since the Hellhound Massacre. _Hades, hope you don't miss your puppies too bad. Sorry I kicked 'em. Dead._

I dig through my fetching bag, envisioning outfits that would pop into my hand, I would try on, and disapprove of. We're going to the beach! I mentally find a Evita bandeau bikini in vibrant green and pair it with a white hi-lo tube dress and green sandals. I pull out a soft faded matching towel and silver earrings. I slip it on, eyeing my reflection in the full length mirror and nodding approvingly.

Suddenly, an frosty ethereal feeling sends metaphorical shivers down my spine, and my ebony eyes flickered back to the mirror through my thickly mascara'd lashes. There was the chalky white face of the vampire. I drop my bag in shock. The leech smiles with full white teeth. The sight of him is enough to imbue fear in the pits of my stomach. I whirl, around, but he's not there. He's only in the... mirror. Am I hallucinating?

"Hello, Alexandra..." he whispers in a dulcet, mellifluous tone. "You will be mine." It sounds like melting honey. My stomach overturns. A penumbra, half-shadow, is behind me. He's only in the mirror, but his shadow's right here. Finally a normal human reaction: I let loos a toe-curling, ear-scarring scream, and somehow my fist connects with the glass mirror, right where his gorgeous face is. A spiderweb crack ripples through the glass, thoroughly shattering it. I don't stop screaming and my throat burns, even by the time- instanteously- when Paul and the others are in this room.

"She broke the mirror with her reflection," Embry's voice jokes, "Hell, even she's not THAT ugly." I bristled.

My pure black fearful eyes are wide and I'm trembling. I can imagine I look like an addict suffering from intense withdrawal symptoms. In other words, my stepmother.

His words echo in my mind, searing themselves there, like a tattoo. **You will be mine.**

I really wish I'd done something else, anything, even let him suck my blood- which would be better than being an object that a leech is obsessed with. Paul's arms wrap around me comfortingly, after a forever. I catch my breath and I'm crying, sobbing, blubbering- I'd never been this scared. How in Zeus's name does the vampire have the ability to appear in mirrors? I liked it better when it was a myth, and all they did was sparkle.

I adopt a woebegone expression, hopelessly trying to force the tears back.

"WHAT HAPPENED?!" Paul bellows, glowering at all around. "Are you bleeding? _What the hell happened?_!"

**HELLO, ALEXANDRA, **the voice hisses like burnt sugar, **YOU WILL BE MINE.**

_No!_I screech.

He shakes, and Sam rips him away from me, ordering him out of the house before I get hurt. I'm already hurt, I realize, since blood is pooling on my hi-lo tube dress. _Well, that won't ever come out. _The pain comes later.

I am really screwed.

**YOU WILL BE MINE.**

* * *

I'm in a trance as someone named Sue Clearwater sews up my wounded fist. I get five stitches on the side of my palm that lines up with my pinkie finger and seven at my knuckles.

Everyone's trying to extract information from me, and Sue hisses every time she touches my wound. "_Why is it so cold?_" What? I'm brought out of my trance in a tizzy. My eyes show some sort of comprehension.

"She's not brain dead!" Leah cheers. Paul squeezes my unwounded hand with warmth.

Sam frowns. "But the wound is only cold when... that only happens when... a leech causes the damage."

Paul's head snaps to attention, his eyes furious and hateful. "I'll kill it!" he swears a vendetta, letting loose a string of four-letter-words with enough color to be rainbow cusses. Where's my pot o' gold? I'm glad he'd avenge my not-even broken hand. If I was in my right mind I could probably heal it myself. I love you Apollo. I mentally sing my praises. I wonder if they have me on drugs right now.

Paul shakes, tremors rattling his body. _Oh, go smoke a peace pipe, Paul._ Damn. He's hot when he's angry. Did I mention that? Yeah, I did... Like two chapters ago? What? I'm insane. SO..._  
_

Eh, probably not on drugs. I get like this sometimes.

"But we didn't smell Eau de Vamp in there," Jared insists. "It smelt normal. No sickly sweet scent that burns our noses." Burnt sugar, I decide, is a good was to put it.

"You said that some vampires have special abilities," Percy suggests, "Maybe this one's is Air Freshener or something." Sam tilts his head like he might be considering it. Then he shakes it abruptly.

"No, we smelt it definitely earlier, on the beach." Sam says. Beach... sand... water... I think felicitously. Ow, though, to my hand, as Sue pulls the needle out and fastens the stitches. And _ew._

"Ambrosia," I rasp, and the supernatural hearers snap their heads toward me.

"What?" asks Paul, stroking my hair gently like I'm a frightened child. Maybe I am. Technically I'm not an adult yet, but he's nineteen. I'll be eighteen next month, I presume.

"Bag. Front pocket," I mutter. "Looks like candy."

Brady's ears perk, and in a second he's in my magical designer bag. _Hmm... candy,_ he must be thinking. The first pocket of my bag is small and unmagical. It holds my nectar and ambrosia, camp necklace when I'm not wearing it, and a mix of drachmas and American dollars that replenish themselves. Brady pulls a few gold coins out. "Oooh... shiny!" he says, distractedly, and Colin grabs a few. Brady grabs a doggy (see what I did there? Oh, nevermind) bag of golden squares out and hands it to Paul, who decides to mouth-feed me. I open my mouth, letting him. He gives me two squares and the taste of warm angel cake melts in my mouth. I almost moan in appreciation. My throat heals and my hand heals itself slowly. Seth reaches for one and I almost scream.

"No!" I cry, "You can't have one. If anyone but a half-blood eats it, their insides burst into flames!" Seth recoils immediately.

"We're already so hot..." jokes Jacob. "But why?"

"Ambrosia is the food of the gods," Kim says, smartly. Figures. I believe she is a daughter of Athena. "We have half-god in us, so we can eat them to an extent. If we have too many, we risk burning up." Paul immediately ceases shoving them down my throat. "They taste delicious, like your favorite food multiplied in goodness by a billion." _Yes, they do. _"And it heals us."

All look tempted, regardless of the bursting into flames part. I don't blame them one bit.

"So what happened up there that you needed to break my mirror?" Emily inquires wryly. I take a deep breath, and the story just spills out of me.

* * *

By noontime, we let Percy go. The sun is directly overhead, at its peak, high in the cloudless sky. The pack is surprised, saying it's a first for this area. It usually storms, apparently. I was right. Zeus DOES like this town. Or hate it, depending on his logic.

Kim exchanges her goodbyes with Percy before me, and so do the rest of the pack- the one's that like him at least. Paul is almost grinning from ear to ear. He's really jealous, I snicker to myself.

"Bye, Percy," I say, sadly. "I'll miss you. Hope you get back to camp soon."

He looks hopeful. "Any chance you're going to tell me where it is?"

I shake my head. "Can't. Wish I could."

"Just a hint?" he urges. "Doesn't even have to be where it is. Tell me something about me."

I duck my head, forcing myself to study the pattern of the dirt made by the wolf pack trekking over it. "Sorry. I've given you quite a few. And you're already starting to remember, at least a little. _Blue pancakes._.." I murmur the last part.

Percy swallows. His Adam's apple bobs up and down in his throat. "No. It's okay. I'll find it on my own."

I chew on my lower lip mournfully. "Just don't-" I start, but cut myself off, and begin again. "Can you not, like, mention me to Annabeth, or anyone? They won't be very happy I kept you from going to them."

He nods. "Okay."

"You're a good guy, Percy," I say. "That's something about you. You're so loyal. You'd give up the world to save a friend."

"Thanks." Percy smiles faintly. "Goodbye."

"Good luck," I call out to his retreating form. "_You'll need it._" I add the last part once he's out of view.

We do end up going to the beach, and I get a personal bodyguard. I wonder how in Hades I'm going to not end up hurting people by getting with Paul if he's always with me to enhance my already sparky emotions. Most daughters of Aphrodite don't hate feelings.

I really, really do.

I start craving cheesecake. Damn. Paul and Embry dunk me, and we have a chicken fight, and then we go back to Sam and Emily's. For a "snack". Ha! They are just hungry assholes. I don't end up getting cheesecake.

A week passes and nothing really happens- albeit Paul and I going on some unsaid dates. Sue's diner, picnic on the beach, cliff diving... etc. Two minor monster attacks occur. One was a sea serpent, neon green with azure blue fins and translucent scales. I killed that one easily enough- choking it with a celestial bronze plated scarf. RIP Scarfie! I almost bawled my eyes out. Then on the diner date, one of the waitresses was a empousai. It was pretty easy, given their expertise. Seth basically got seduced, however.

The poor, poor young child. He's only, what? Fourteen, you blood-sucking, life-leeching, forever-young cradle-robber. Seth is fourteen! ZEUS, and he's hot, Native American, and looks like he's twenty something or other. Not quite twenty five, like the other wolves look, or eighteenish, like Colin and Brady. Sam looks to be around twenty seven.

Paul looks hot, to be honest.

They all have sexy russet skin. My skin is pale. IT'S A CURSE! Look at how the pale vampires turned out.

I gnaw on my dinner on the first Monday night of the week. It's just me, Emily, and Kim here, since the rest of the pack is out phased, patrolling. I swallow the last bit of burger, and then tell Emily I'm going to bed.

I change into a silk tank top and satin shorts, and slide into the bathroom. As soon as I close the door, I face the mirror, and I don't even have time to scream before I grabbed, and physically pulled through the mirror.

Holy Hades.


	12. Chapter 12-Through the Looking Glass

I don't recommend mirror traveling if you are afraid of:

A) The dark

B) Shadows of every human that's ever looked in this mirror and not knowing how you know that

C) Strange noise

D) Going so fast that you feel like your face is peeling off

In other words, I loved it. I struggled to keep my eyes open, but all I could hear was honeysuckle cackling laughter. Maybe it was an imprint thing, but I also faintly smelt the scent of burnt sugar. But I freaked when I realized what was happening: I was just kidnapped by a vampire I accidentally made fall in love with me, by mirror, and I have no idea where I'm going and how I'm going to get back to my werewolf soul mate and/or help out Camp defeat Gaea. Not that I would be much help, but... it's the thought that counts.

I always hated that saying. I mean, really- what if you were a doctor and your patient has internal bleeding and you decide you should have them swallow a much of BandAids to stop it, and they died (perhaps from choking)? Would saying 'it's the thought that counts' make it any better for their family?

Eh, maybe if they were mentally handicapped.

So many Americans are.

One minute I am in my PJs in Emily's bathroom, in a quaint little cottage on the edge of a Quileute reservation, ready to put my curlers in and brush my teeth. Then a white cold hand, reaches out and grabs me by the scruff of my neck, dropping me in some looking glass from a messed-up version of Alice in Hades, er-Wonderland. (Obviously Alice in Wonderland was written by a child of Dionysus, and based on a true story. We say based on a true story, because obviously, as he was Mr. D's kid, he wasn't all right in the head.) Hours later, I'd assume, the shadows melted and created a new scene. An opulent castle entrance, with dark stone pillars and a shady arch above my head.

A cold arm tightens around my bicep to keep me from slumping down on the ground. For some reason, traveling through mirror has really taken a lot out of me. I turn my head and face the leech who'd abducted me for the second time. Maybe I should get away again just to be able to say "Third times the charm!"

The vampire smiles at me. I nearly have a heart attack, because in my experience, seeing a leech smile is like Hades' laughing. Now, I've never met Hades, but with Death Boy-excuse me, Nico di Angelo shadow traveling in and out of camp at the oddest moments, you know from his expression that his Daddy ain't exactly rainbows and unicorns. "Hello and welcome to Volterra," the vampire says, his blood red eyes twinkling. (Is that why vampire's eyes are red? 'Cause of the blood?)

"Uh, hi," I reply, reaching for my bag, to retrieve my knife. In a moment of despair, I remember I'd left my bag on the bathroom floor, and my knife with it. "What just happened?" I wonder hesitantly. I've learned with monsters, as much as an occasional summer camper and occasional year-rounder does. Sometimes it's better to indulge the monster, and they might let you go. Some of them are mentally handicapped like that.

The leech chuckles. "I brought you through the mirror so we could finally be together." Not only does he have a special ability, but he is also delusional. Just my luck. And my fault, additionally, on the delusional bit.

How could I lead him on like that?

Because you didn't want to die, dumbass.

"Oh." I bite my lip. "I thought that was a myth." That insanely repulsive grin never strays from his chalky white face. As I run my eyes over his features, I realize I never have before, in the two other times I'd met him. Well, three, if you count the broken mirror episode. He has a strong nose with high cheekbones and protruding jaw. His hair is almost like a faded brown, like it got washed out with watered-out bleach like the rest of him during his transformation. He has a full grin with razor sharp, pearly-white teeth and pale lips. His eyebrows almost look stenciled on and he's tall; not as tall as Paul, but maybe 5'11, 6', or even 6'1. I come up to about shoulder height, at 5'6. His fingers are long, like a pianists, and there are several crescent shaped scars in various places on his chalky skin. Unlike the first time we'd met, he's now clad in a black robe that sweeps the floor behind him.

"No, no," he assures me. "It's not a myth. It is only I who has this gift however, and I was the base of that legend, back when I was a young and careless vampire." Damn, I wish you were still young and even more careless.

"What about burning in the sunlight?" I inquire, an emotionless mask adorning my face like a pro-actress. _How long can you keep this up?_ I ask myself. _How long till he realizes you are simply indulging him in this fantasy and you're stalling-for what?_

"Oh, no!" he exclaims, fervently. "Another silly misconception. We sparkle, instead. There is a story to that one though..." Good. More time.

I nod felicitously. "Yes?" My stomach overturns at the sight of this man.

"Indeed. There once was a young newborn vampire named Maude, who revealed herself to humans, so we-the Volturi, were forced to kill her. But she was in public and had an audience, so as soon as she stepped into the sunlight, we burnt her. It looked to the humans as if the sun was burning her to a pile of ash."

I politely nod again. "Who are the Volturi?" And this dark castle was Volterra? That seems oddly cliche for a vampire family's home. Like, of course the vampire's live in dark looming castles in-where is this? Somewhere in Europe, I'm guessing, because there's no way Americans would settle at a place named _Volterra_.

The vampire grins cheerily, as if we are exchanging pleasantries.. "Oh! We are like the vampire royalty-" Explains the castle. "-and it's our job to keep the laws of vampires. We must prevent the knowledge of vampirism to spread to humans. I am part of the guard." Seems legit. I swallow, and strategise my next move in this. Do I ask him his role in this-or his name, perhaps? How he became a vampire, or is that still too much of a sore spot?

I don't get a chance to decide before he speaks again. "Would you like a tour? The castle is simply magnificent. We happen to offer tours to anyone, but yours will be special." How special? Like, "I'll suck your blood" special, or "I'll show you my room where we can get it on" special or even "I'll kiss you at the end" special. Again, I don't get a chance to ask-or even answer, before he whisks me into the next hallway. It looks exactly the same as the previous one, banners, tables, decorations, and all. It's labyrinthine, mazelike, winding, and serpentine. Halls and secret corridors are everywhere, and he guides me with his frosty hand attached to my elbow, like he's my date to a dance n' shit. The corridors are irregular and twisting, and intricate, confusing, and convoluted in some sort of system that my vampire lover knows by heart.

Normally I'm a big fan of the heart, but... We all learn how to make exceptions for people who love us. (Hooray! Hazza! People love me! What else is new?) We walk under archways and through chambers lit by candlelight on the walls. Centuries old artwork adorns the walls. My stomach drops. My eyes, right now, would be some obscure color never seen before, because I can't tell what I'm feeling. Perhaps they'd be gray, like Athena's.

_Lady Athena... Please help me. I swear I will devote my life to studying and worshiping you,_ I pray. I send out a separate message to whoever the Greek God of getting out of horrible situations is.

"And this is the Great Hall," my vampire lover says, pulling me into a dark, round, empty throne room. Three thrones are centered near the back of the room. He spreads one of his hands until it's outstretched, as if expecting me to marvel at it. I shiver instead. This room is seriously eerie. I sensed many deaths in here. I knew that Nico di Angelo would have a field day coming into a place with so much obvious death. At this point, I don't care who helps me- just, somebody, _please do_.

"It's really nice," I force out. "But... can we go somewhere else in the castle?"

He almost looks disappointed, but his grin never wavers. Is he ODing on Happy Pills? Escatsy? It must be the drugs! Do vampires have drug dealers? I internally debate it. While I'm at war with myself about how heroin would affect leeches, he brings me upstairs to his bedroom. Oh great. It's this kind of special. Nooo! I don't want to lose my V-card to some Walking Dead wannabe. I've never even watched the Walking Dead. For the sake of my sanity, assume they are vampires and not zombies, because I am unsure which is correct. DRACULA!

I think about the castle. Had I been trying to sell it I'd describe it so: **Grande and made of hand-cut stone stacked together. Fitted with torture chambers throughout. Wall to wall bloodstained carpeting in carpeted chambers. Applicants would benefit from cellar with sleeping (as well as death) accommodations and shackles. In need of certain refurbishment and modernization in various places but offering a magnificent view of village and clock tower with a scrumptious nightlife you can really get your teeth into.**

Pfft... Who am I kidding, I lost (read: misplaced) my sanity years ago! He lays me down on his bed, and for the record, I have no idea why he has one, and I realize I'd just walked around an entire castle in my extremely see-through pink pajamas. No wonder than bastard was so happy the whole time! I bristle.

"Why do you have a bed?" I snap.

He eyes my breasts and I nearly pull a Paul and snarl out of my mind. "Oh. I planned ahead on having you here. Besides, most vampires have beds for spending time with their mates."

Do any mythological creatures not have soul mates? I'd like to meet them very much.

I say absently, "Do you have a mate?"

"Well, I hoped you would be mine."

My eyes nearly bug out of my skull. Not that I shouldn't have been expecting it, of course. I gulp, "OH." If I was in anime, I would've sweatdropped. Obviously, I am not. I find the idea of being his forever young mate horrible-actually I found it depressing to be with anyone but Paul. This crush has gone too far! I can also most hear my mom's voice in my head: _No, it hasn't. Fall in love with Paul. Or the vampire. I have a channel on my KissCam! set up just for you._ Of course she would. "What's your name, anyway?" I ask the vampire curiously.

"Damien," the leech replied. "Now sleep." He put charming emphasis on his command and like he was compelling me to do what he asked, my eyes flutter closed on cue.

* * *

_I dream of wolves. They're racing, words echoing through their heads-at least twelve points of views ricocheting and boomeranging around in my mind at a time. I look down to silver paws and realize that right now-I'm Paul LaHote. I wonder if he's having a reverse dream as me, where I'm in his shoes and he's in mine. I've heard of those. I think. Sometimes I just make up stuff because it's easier. Like, most of the time. _

_I'm sprinting, going like a bat out of hell, galloping? like a lunatic and I hear voices- familiar ones. _

Paul! _yells Embry. _This isn't going to help anything. The trail doesn't go anywhere.

_I/Paul snarls, whipping past him like a cheetah. Or a wolf. _

Paul, Paul! She's gone. _Jacob says. _There's nothing you can do.

_Whipping past trees, all off the wolves are focused on stopping a vicious, bloodthirsty silver wolf. Paul bares his teeth at all who get near. _Where is she? Where is she? _runs through his/my head. _Where is she? I'll kill that bloodsucker! Where did he take her?!_ His thoughts are furious, red rage ripping through him like a knife. Slicing his heart apart, taking away one of the few things he loves. He loves me? _I'll kill that leech! I'll kill him! I'll rip him apart and torture him slowly roasting him over the bonfire..._ he begins to plot. _

_Sam's voice cuts into his murderous strategies. _Come back! We'll find her. Maybe that pixie Cullen can help us.

Maybe Alice Cullen can look into Alex's future, _pleaded Seth. He mostly has good thoughts about the Cullen coven/family. He's friends with them. Like Jacob. _

I don't want those stupid bloodsuckers in this at all! This is my mate, my imprint! _Paul growls in agony. _It hurts so much. _There is a sharp pain in his chest, like his Alex (me) is far away and he doesn't know where but she's in danger. _I'll kill him! Where is she?!_  
_

_Paul's shoulder cuts against a branch, but heals quickly. _Where are you, Alex?

_My dream shifts, melting away into another scene. Now I'm in a pit. Darkness ebbs and flows here. _

**Little half-blood... Join me and you'll be saved from the vampires.** Uh, no thanks. I'm good. _The voice is deep, womanly, and powerful. More compelling than the vampire's but less forceful. Like Gaea's trying to persuade me. I wonder if I could charm her._

**_Such a pity. Imagine if something happened to your camp?_**

_I scream at the thought of Camp being upturned my earthquakes. Landslides crushing the cabins. The beach eroded away into nothing. Zeus's Fist smashed. Craters everywhere. Camp Half-Blood is my home, but it's not as if she wouldn't destroy it simply because I joined her ranks. _NO. _I think harshly. My dream fades and I wake, bolt upright in cold sweat._

* * *

Most days, after I wake up, I think: _I should write horror novels. _However, sadly, I have ADHD and dyslexia and I don't even know how to spell dislecksia?(dyslexia)and don't have the attention span to look it up. And I don't even know what ADHD means. _Something about HD movies? _Today, was no different, except for the four vampires I found glowering at me as I awoke from my deep slumber. What's-his-face-tour-guide, old-guy-in-black-robe-with-weird-pendant-who-defies-vampire-physics-by-not-being-remotely-attractive, sadistic-twelve-year-old-girl, and some-other-guy-that-looks-kinda-like-her. Anyway, I stared at them. The only non-glowerer would be my vampire lover, Damien, otherwise known as What's-his-face-tour-guide.

I attempted to control my breathing, but my heartbeat was a lost cause.

"This is her?" asks the man in black (MIB, from now on), unimpressed.

"I happen to be gorgeous," I say, miffed. "At least prettier than _her._" The twelve-year-old looks at me like every nerve in my body should be on fire, but I don't feel a thing. "What's that supposed to do?"

MIB strokes his chin. "Interesting. Jane's power does not work on her."

Damien gazes upon me like I'm his whole world, and I find myself missing Paul. "Yes, you are gorgeous..." I eye him. Eh, you're okay.

"Touch my hand," orders MIB, and I eye the wrinkled pale thing, disgusted. He wants me to touch that? Achoo! Sorry, I'm allergic to bullshit.

"Um, no thanks," I decline. Politely. Ish.

"Touch it!" he commands. This must sound soooo much like a rape scene to anyone listening in.

"No! Non! Όχι! Εγώ δεν θα αγγίξει αυτό το πράγμα! Είναι αηδιαστικό! Αποκτήστε το μακριά από μένα! (No! I will not touch that thing! It's disgusting! Get it away from me!)" I hiss, my black eyes glowering. I'd unknowingly switched from English-French-Greek.

MIB laughs. "I know all those languages. What's disgusting about it?" I smile sheepishly. Oh, everything. But I will not let him touch my hand. It's probably a special ability that allows him to do horrible things to me. I get a brilliant lightbulb moment.

I breathe, letting in a sigh of oxygen, and letting him think I'd almost given in, but exhaling love mist-my word for making everyone in a given area fall in love with you. At least temporarily.

All of their eyes changed, brightened, like the darkness was expelled. Maybe all I did was make them like me? No such luck, I realize, as fists start banging on the doors, demanding to be let in to see their beloved.

What the fuck have I done?


End file.
